One Word
by TARDISTraveller
Summary: A series of Oneshots, each prompted by just a single word. All characters/series in Doctor Who may appear, but mostly New Who Doctors and companions. Read one or all, the choice is yours! (Characters listed are from latest chapter)
1. Bullet

1: Bullet

Clara was running, with a Timelord, down the corridor of an alien spaceship. All of this would be incredibly normal, for her standards, except that the Timelord she was running with was, in fact, a Time Lady and, to top it off, it was Missy. How she had gotten herself into this situation was beyond her. All she knew was that she had to keep running and make sure the guards didn't see her. That's all the Doctor had time to say before dashing off to God-knows-where, apparently. She would berate him about it later, though. Right now, she had about a million other things to worry about.

In the corner of her eye, she watched Missy round the next corner without any precaution or hesitation. Clara sighed and glanced warily down the corridor before turning it herself. Remarkably, there were no guards. She would add Missy to the berating session later, though. She was acting even more rashly than the Doctor typically did, and that was certainly saying something. Why couldn't Gallifreyans be just a little more careful? No wonder they all needed so many lives; they probably went through them like she went through sweets on Halloween.

Missy stopped so suddenly Clara nearly crashed into her, then pulled the dishevelled human into a maintenance cupboard, slamming the door shut behind them. The small space went incredibly dark, with only a few thin holes in the door letting light in. Missy's agitated voice cut through the dank air like a knife, louder than normal due to the small size of the closet.

"Can you please be quieter, I'm trying to focus on saving my boyfriend."

Clara's eyebrows furrowed. She replied in between panted breaths. "What...am I breathing too loud?"

Missy rolled her eyes. "Not your voice, dear, your brain. It's very distracting."

Clara's eyes shone with confusion in the three skinny streams of light. Missy tapped her head with a pointer finger. "Telepathic."

Clara nodded. "Right." Suddenly, the human turned another baffled glance at the Time Lady. "Hold on, did you say boyfriend?"

Missy closed her eyes. "Shhh. Mummy and daddy are talking."

Clara shook her head and peered through the cracks of the door, praying that no guard or custodian would come by any time soon. Behind her, Missy stood completely still, for once, focused completely on her telepathic conversation. Clara almost wished she could hear it herself, but another "Shoosh" from Missy forced her out of her thoughts and into an almost trancelike meditation.

The next thing Clara heard was the scraping metal of the door opening as Missy led them back into the corridor. "Come on, dear, we haven't got all day."

The young teacher shook the fog from her brain and followed Missy to the next intersection of corridor, making sure to close the closet behind them. "So what did you talk about?"

Missy either didn't hear her or didn't care enough to respond. Instead, she led the way, two paces at a time, down three more strips of corridor until finally they heard voices of the guards. Missy pulled Clara roughly into a service hatch as two young men walked by, militaristic weapons leaned on their shoulders. Clara strained her ears to listen to their conversation.

"We caught an intruder today. Fields said to execute him right away."

"And did ya?"

"Nah, I gave 'im to the new recruit, Brady, in 5B. Not too smart, but they've gotta earn their place someway, eh?"

Clara's big eyes turned on Missy, who seemed much too calm. As quietly as she could, Clara whispered, "Is this part of the plan?"

Without a response, though, Missy stood and hurried down the corridor, towards a door labelled 5B. Clara made to follow, but the Time Lady put a hand out to stop her. Unexpectedly, Missy then rounded the corner and rushed off, leaving Clara half-kneeling in the service hatch on her own.

"Missy. Missy!"

Clara's voice strained as she whispered as loud as possible, but it was to no avail. Missy was long gone down the next corridor when Clara finally willed the courage to dash out and check. With one final angry glare, the teacher hid behind the closest wall and peered through the window of 5B, where the sight her eyes met made her heart skip a beat.

In the mostly empty, grey room stood a soldier, in a similar uniform to the guards, holding an ominous gun in their grip. Five meters away, against the wall stood the Doctor, arms hanging loosely at his sides, staring down the barrel of the gun with fire in his eyes. It was all Clara could do not to charge in there and rescue him herself. Alarms would blare. Guards would be called. No, the Doctor knew what he was doing. And Missy would help. She could be diabolical sometimes, but never at the expense of the Doctor's life. Right?

Suddenly, a bang went off, and Clara's blood went cold. The Doctor dropped to the floor. The soldier, Brady, hesitantly lowered their gun and knelt beside him, checking the pulse in his neck. Clara stood in her little nook in the wall, frozen in shock, eyes glued to her unmoving best friend. Brady got back to their feet, appearing almost nervous as they turned around. Clara accidently met their eyes. She had another mini heart attack before the soldier burst out crying, letting their weapon fall to the floor. Clara took a few shaky steps forward, pulled open the door, and entered the room without another delay.

Brady leaned against the back wall, wiping at their eyes. "I didn't...I only joined them so I could help...that's what we do, isn't it? But this isn't...I…"

Clara closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be real. Of course not. The Doctor was going to pop up any second and they would run off together, hand in hand. They would laugh about it in the TARDIS later, and tell off Missy for leaving them; for disappearing. And then all three of them would laugh again, because this wasn't real.

Clara finally looked down. The Doctor was lying on his stomach, head facing away from her. His black velvet coat covered any damage he had sustained. Clara dropped to her knees beside him, fiddling with her fingers. Her hands were shaking violently. It took a strong will of courage and disbelief for her left hand to tear itself away from the right and, practically vibrating with fear and shock, come to rest on the Doctor's neck. Just as she expected, there was no pulse.

Clara's left hand stayed frozen on her friend's throat as the other clamped her mouth shut. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Somehow, she still couldn't believe this was happening. It didn't feel real. Something was missing. Something important.

Regeneration.

With one word, Clara's entire mind did a backflip. If he were dying, he would be regenerating. Unless it was too late?

She didn't know anything about him, really. Maybe he could still regenerate. Maybe he hadn't needed to. Maybe he couldn't. She cursed her lack of knowledge. How long had they been travelling together and she still didn't know these things?

"Doctor."

The word escaped her lips like a plea, and acted as a kickstarter. Instantly, she wrapped her arms around him, crying into the curls of his hair without shame or relent.

"Stop this. I know I shouldn't need you, but I do, Doctor. You're my best friend and I need you to stop this."

Brady watched from the other side of the room, apologizing profusely. None of their words reached Clara, though. Not, at least, until another voice entered loudly from the doorway.

"Humans. So many emotions. It's a wonder you get anything done when you're stuck crying all the time."

Missy was leaned on one arm in the doorway. Clara eyed her with malice from the floor, still cradling the Doctor in her arms. "Where the hell did you go?"

Missy rolled her eyes, pushing off the wall. "I was busy. Places to go. People to see."

Clara blinked, tearing her eyes away from the Time Lady. "Missy, leave. I'll give you five minutes, just go."

Missy approached Clara and looked down at the scene. She let air out through her teeth before muttering, under her breath so the human couldn't hear her, "Gullible."

Clara glared up at her. "What did you say?"

Instead of responding, Missy brought her boot up to the Doctor's shoulder and pushed.

"What are you doing?"

Clara scooted back and cradled the Doctor's head as he fell onto his back. Missy shook her head. "Didn't even check."

Clara glanced from one Gallifreyan to the other. "Didn't check what? What did you do?"

Without turning back, Missy said simply, "Look at his shirt. Is there any mark?"

Clara looked at the Doctor closely, for the first time, and noted the pristineness of his white shirt. He appeared to be completely unharmed. The human's eyebrows furrowed. "Well, it's...it's probably invisible kind of damage."

Missy turned to Clara and, reaching into her jacket, pulled out a small handgun."This is what you heard. Good old fashioned trick of the ears."

Clara eyed the weapon strangely. "So…he didn't actually get shot?"

Missy carelessly gestured with the gun in the air. "Do you see a bullet anywhere?"

Clara stared down at the Doctor. "No…"

"No bullet. Just a sound effect."

The teacher shook her head. "Then why did his hearts stop? How did he die?"

Missy dropped to her knees beside Clara. "Do I have to do everything around here?"

She loosely picked up the Doctor's arm and forcefully placed Clara's fingers on his wrist. Clara's eyes inflated and deflated rapidly. "He...he's alive! But he wasn't before."

Missy dropped both of their arms nonchalantly. "Another trick. Slow down your hearts enough to make people think you're dead and they'll believe it. Primitives, at least."

"Oi!"

Clara whacked Missy's arm, but smiled nonetheless. Even Missy grinned a little. "He'll be fine in a few minutes. Might have a headache; should be even more irritating than usual. I better go."

Missy stood to go, but Clara grabbed her wrist. "Hey, Missy...ugh, thanks."

"For what?"

"I don't know, not killing anyone, I guess?"

"Have I not killed anyone today? Gotta remedy that."

"Missy…"

"Fine, fine."

Missy started to go, but turned back when she reached the door. Clara was holding the Doctor's hand in her own, stroking his hair back with the other. With more gentility than she typically seemed capable of, Missy asked, "Take care of him, alright?"

She left only after Clara had given her a smile.

The Doctor, sure enough, began waking only minutes later. He shifted on the floor in front of Clara, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, legs straightening out from the awkward position they had been stuck in for ten minutes. Clara's big brown eyes were the first thing he saw when he awoke.

"Hello."

"Hiya."

Clara helped him sit up against the wall, then sat beside him. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a forefinger and thumb. His carer was there for him, holding his other hand and rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. "Missy said you might have a pretty nasty headache."

"For once, she wasn't lying."

Clara chuckled, then turned very serious. "That was a pretty stupid thing you did, you know. I thought you were...dead."

Her eyes tried to meet his, but he wouldn't comply, rubbing circles on his temples instead. She punched his arm.

"Oi, Clara! Injured man, here."

"You let me think you were dead and now you won't even look at me?"

The Doctor's hands fell to his lap. "I'm sorry."

"Say again?"

"I'm…"

The Doctor finally met his companion's eyes, and he smiled. "I thought Missy would at least warn you first."

"Missy, lover of chaos?"

"Maybe I had a bit of a mental relapse. It was necessary, though."

"Necessary for what?"

The Doctor merely looked up at Brady, who was watching with wide eyes from the opposite end of the room. Clara followed his gaze.

"How goes the day, soldier?"

Brady hesitantly pointed at themselves, throwing a glance to the wall behind them. "M-me?"

"You're going to command this place someday, I think."

Brady shook their head, almost laughing. "I don't know about that."

Clara eyed the Doctor curiously, but before she could ask anything, he was struggling to his feet, holding his head. She stood beside him, holding his arm. He turned sharply towards her. "Clara, never let me go that long without my hearts again."

"Agreed."

He turned back to Brady, who had gotten to their feet and was standing at attention with wide, almost fearful, eyes. The Doctor pointed at them, peering into their eyes with a hypnotic stare. "Remember this. Remember how you felt holding that gun."

"I'm never touching that thing again."

"Exactly. Remember all of this. It'll be important someday."

Brady nodded fervently. The Doctor let his eyes close and staggered into the wall. "Clara?"

"Got you."

"Thanks."

Clara led the Doctor away from the wall, taking on much of his weight. As they neared the entranceway, the Timelord turned to the soldier one last time. "Remember this."

Clara pulled him through the threshold, accidently walking him into the door. Her voice squeaked a quick "Sorry!" as they continued down the corridor. Brady watched with confusion written all over their face.

. . . . . . .

"So Doctor, what just happened?"

The Doctor was sat in his favorite armchair, holding a bag of frozen peas to the back of his head. Clara was standing idly by the bookshelf, leafing through a copy of Pride and Prejudice.

"The other day I made a slight booboo in Brady's timeline, accidentally started a war, and destroyed a few civilizations. That was me remedying that."

"By getting killed?"

"By making them think they killed me. Skae Brady is the future commander of the ship we were just on. They lead their people to peace and prosperity, but only by first learning the horror that killing really is."

"How do they become the commander if they won't carry a gun? Won't that be a problem for the boss?"

"Skae is a nonbinary human on an alien spaceship that kills anyone who tries to intrude on their archaic system without trial. 'Special' doesn't begin to describe them."

They were silent for a moment. Then, Clara turned a page in her book and asked playfully, "What was Missy doing there?"

"She happened to be with me when I made the booboo."

Clara looked up. "Happened to be with you? What, do you travel with her now?"

"Only when you're not available."

Clara chuckled, looking back at her book. "She called you her boyfriend."

"Did she?"

The human looked back at the Timelord with her mouth agape. "Are you pleased?"

"What? No, of course not. Why on Gallifrey would I be...she's always said things like that, doesn't make them true."

Clara swayed a bit, smiling to herself. "Anyway, that would never work. You're both too much to handle individually. You and her together would bring chaos."

The Doctor returned the peas to the back of his head. "Not too unlike ourselves."

"What's that mean?"

"You were about to kill her when you thought I'd died."

Clara froze. "Could you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Clara cleared her throat, returning the book to its shelf. "I better, ugh, get washed up. Maybe we could have dinner in tonight, eh? Don't want to risk you hitting your head on the ceiling at Pluto Cafe, eh?"

"That planet was made for you, you know? Everyone there is under five foot four. It's a wonder I even got into the restaurant!"

They shared a laugh before Clara started down the steps. As she descended, though, the Doctor's suddenly soft voice called her attention again.

"Clara?"

"Yeah?"

He bit his lip, hesitating. "I need you, too."

He met her eyes for a quick second before sinking into his armchair. Clara smiled at him for a second longer before she, too, turned away and went off to get washed up for supper. The TARDIS hummed quietly, and all was right with the world.


	2. Lesson

2: Lesson

"How could _you_ forget how to tie a bowtie?"

Clara was stood in front of the central column of the TARDIS, arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. The Doctor was gliding around the Console, doing everything in his power to keep from meeting her eyes. It was embarrassing enough prancing about with his first button undone and his signature accessory dangling loosely around his neck.

"I didn't _forget_ , it was deleted from my memory. Remember the giant octo-man I saved you from?"

"You said his ink couldn't affect Timelords."

The Doctor flew to the opposite end of the Console and pulled a lever, grabbing onto the panel as the ship lurched. "Rule one."

When the TARDIS next stabilized Clara sauntered over to where the Doctor was punching in coordinates. "So, you lied to me, got ink all over yourself your clothes, forgot how to dress yourself, and now you want me to help?"

The Doctor's eyes veered left as he awkwardly chew his lip. "Basically."

They finally met eyes, and Clara smiled. "Just another day, then?"

The Doctor returned the grin, if a bit bashfully.

* * *

"Alright, Time Boy, let's see how good of a learner you are."

The Doctor, sat in the flight chair, tilted his head at the teacher towering over him. "Is this how all of your lessons start?"

Clara ignored his comment and untied the bow from his neck. It was knotted in at least two separate spots, but eventually she pulled it off of him in one quick swipe.

"Okay, button your shirt and lift up your collar. I'm assuming you remember how to do that."

The Doctor rolled his eyes as he followed her orders, hardly resisting the urge to shoot back a witty quip of his own. When he was done, he sighed and leaned back. Clara took this as a signal and wrapped the fabric around his collar, adjusting the two sides obsessively until they were just how she wanted them to be. It was like she wanted to draw this out; make him sit still for as long as she could. Leave it to a teacher to spawn a pop quiz on 'attention span'.

"So one side should look longer than the other at first. Then you fold the long side over the short side like this."

The Doctor peered down over his chin to watch her maneuver the fabric.

"Then you bring the long end up through the circle you just made and make the shorter end look like a bow, see?"

He nodded his head softly so as not to disturb her work, but remained silent. The truth was, he was more intently focused on this than he was on most things at any given time. Maybe she really was an excellent teacher.

"Now put the long end over the bow and, this is the tricky part so pay attention."

The Doctor stared without blinking as Clara slowly folded the fabric around, putting it through loops and things until finally it resembled a classic tie. She muttered as she went, quietly explaining what she was doing and little tips on how to do it best. He heard every word, ingraining it in his memory.

"And now you just have to tighten it. So hold both ends-"

She suddenly took hold of his hands and lifted them up to his loose tie, placing his fingers gently around the fabric. "-and pull on both to make it tighter."

He did as he was told and felt it tighten against his throat. Clara gave him an approving smile. "Perfect. Do you think you could do it on your own now?"

He nodded, then blinked out of the focused daze he had been placed in. "Yes, yes I think so. Thank you, Clara."

Her grin widened. "My pleasure."

The Doctor got to his feet and inspected his reflection in the glass of the Time Rotor. Unconsciously, he tightened his bowtie just a fraction more. Clara watched him for a moment, leaned with folded hands on the panels of the Console, but lifted her eyes to the spinning panels near the ceiling of the ship. Various black-lined circles swirled around each other, seeming pulsing as the TARDIS seemed to breath in and out.

The Doctor had turned back to the controls, pressing this and twisting that, but as he noticed Clara's mysterious gaze, he stopped his foolish dance around the Console and watched her with a questioning eye. "Something on your mind?"

Clara dropped her gaze and straightened herself off the Console. "Do you think...you could teach me something?"

"Depends what it is. I'm an excellent omelette cooker, but I know nothing about taking care of chinchillas, so you're on your own there."

Clara chuckled, but hesitated a moment before replying, "Can you teach me some of your language?"

The Doctor froze for a second after her words, shifting from foot to foot. "You mean...Gallifreyan?"

Clara glanced at the Console, regretting having asked. "If that's okay. If it's not, that's fine."

The Doctor's lips formed a few words without any utterance before he simply smiled. "Circular Gallifreyan? Like what's written up there?"

She nodded. He clapped his hands together. "Where would you like to start?"

She let out a breath of relief she hadn't known she'd been holding and grinned back at his puppy-dog expression.

* * *

"If you put this line here and add a circle there-"

The Doctor and Clara sat on the floor of the TARDIS, white sheets of paper covered in circles and lines and numerous designs littered around them. He finished the small circle he was working on, and then picked up the paper and handed it to her. "That's your name. Clara Oswald."

She examined the two circles, both woven with clockwork-like letters in the forms of circles and gears and dots and lines. Never had she felt more connected to the Doctor's old planet, nor the man himself even. It was a rare glimpse into his history. He was always so mysterious and so hesitant to speak about his beloved planet, but here she was learning the nuances and intricacies of its language and culture. It was sad, and it was beautiful; just like the Doctor always made it out to be. Just like the Doctor always seemed to be.

"Now, in the city sometimes the letters had more curlicues and posh bits; they like to think they're more dignified or something like that. That's the Time Lords for you."

Clara eyed him curiously. "So you're not from the city? You're a country boy?"

The Doctor smiled faintly. "It's a bit more complicated than that, but yes, I suppose."

"No wonder you're always looking for trouble."

"I don't look for trouble. Trouble finds _me_."

Clara lowered the paper and peered over it smugly. "And that's what every country boy says when they don't want to admit city slickers are right."

The Doctor shook his head as Clara got to her feet. "That...doesn't even make sense."

Clara looked around the messy floor. "We'll be organizing this for the rest of the day."

The Doctor stood beside her, eyes gliding over his ancient language lovingly, but with a touch of bittersweet. Anger and sadness danced in the flecks of joy and care.

Clara noticed all of this. He held his stare on the papers even as she watched his pupils inflate and shrink back down again, nostrils flaring and breathing slowing. She placed a comforting hand on his cheek, turning his face slowly towards her own a foot below him. "Guess we both had something to teach each other."

He took her hand in her own and kissed her knuckles lightly. Their eyes danced around each other's for a moment, and then he went swiftly back to the Console with a goofy grin on his face. She couldn't help but return the smile as he held a red lever and gave her wide, adventurous eyes. "Ready to learn some more lessons?"

"Oh yeah."

They both grabbed onto the Console for dear life, laughing like maniacs, as the ship took off into the Time Vortex.


	3. Wind

3: Wind

River and the Doctor had been on Darillium for exactly one year, getting into trouble, exploring, and, of course, getting a good run in every day or so. Hand in hand, they had fled shop owners, wolf-like aliens living in the woods of the strange planet, and even a few small children. Tonight, though, was their anniversary (as close to an anniversary as two time traveller's always meeting in the wrong order can have), and River had specifically requested peace and calm for once. The Doctor was, of course, taken aback by his wife's uncharacteristic request, and doubtful whether he could actually realize it, but he was determined to make her happy, no matter what.

For that reason, and that reason only, the Doctor and River hadn't seen much of each other all day. He had left the small flat they were sharing before she had woken and hadn't contacted her since. Normally, they went to breakfast together, or walked to the markets and tried to negotiate with the tricky business-owners. When River realized the Doctor was not beside her in bed nor anywhere in the flat, the market was the first place she looked.

Though it was still night on Darillium, and only getting darker and darker every night as they were only 1/24 into the night, the market was always beautiful. Lamps lined the long, narrow street on both sides, lighting up the entire walkway as if it were the middle of a summer day in Italy (Earth's Italy, that is, not the planet Italy; that was actually a rather cloudy place). People from all over town would crowd into the marketplace, always coming in waves.

River and the Doctor always made sure to go before anyone else. The street was silent; still. Tiny insects would hover through the light of the lamps, enjoying their last moments before bug-hating crowds of people looking for food. River would take the Doctor's hand, as much as he at first protested, and they walked down the cobblestones slowly, still lost in the afterglow of dreams. Even the Doctor slept now, by insistence and, sometimes, command of River, so they would both discuss the plots of their strange, colorful dreamscapes. Being nearly-immortal time travellers certainly broadened the imagination.

River thought of all of these wonderful mornings as she made her way down the stalls on the morning of their first anniversary. Her eyes glanced over the apple-apricots and BoLa fruit stands, searching for gray curls but only finding disgruntled, half-asleep employees and exhausted parents herding yawning children. Dr. Song shook her head.

"Where on Darillium is that man? I could kill him sometimes."

Suddenly a heavily accented voice called out beside her. "Ya lookin' for yer fellah?"

River's turned wide eyes to a woman selling pastries. She was a kind lady who always threw in an extra muffin when the Doctor and herself looked more somber than usual. River smiled. "Have you seen him? I'm afraid he's being mysterious today. That usually means trouble."

"Mo' trouble 'an usual, then?"

"I don't think there is 'usual' with the Doctor."

"Well, I don't know 'bout mystery, but I saw 'im about an hour ago, goin' down to the road. Further than the two o' you usually go, I mean."

River pondered this for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows. "What's down there?"

The saleswoman shrugged. "On'y thing I know is the restaurant."

River's mouth fell open slightly, as if she were about to reply, but closed almost as instantly. Instead, she nodded to the woman and thanked her for the information, then set off down the street faster than usual.

She came upon the restaurant faster than she'd thought she would, hurrying through the empty space. A few employees dusting and setting tables eyed her suspiciously. One approached her, mindlessly squeezing a napkin in his hands.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but we are closed right now."

River merely held a smiling stare at the anxious waiter. "Ramon?"

The robot in King Hydroflax' armor marched into the room.

"Good morning, River! We didn't expect you this early in the morning."

The waiter's eyes widened. "Oh. You must be...so sorry, Dr. Song. Of course you can come in. Any time."

River pat the poor, blubbering man on the arm gently. Then she turned back to Ramon questioningly. "Have you seen the Doctor?"

Ramon faltered, shifting awkwardly on big, metal feet. "Ugh, actually I have ma'am."

"And? You have to be honest with me, Ramon. We are still married."

His face turned pink. "We are?"

River leaned towards him with a smirk. "I never like to burn bridges."

She pulled back. "Have you seen him?"

"Y-yes. But…"

River eyed Ramon with a smile. "What's making everyone so secretive today?"

She went for the stairs, but stopped when both the robot and the waiter rushed to block her off. Ramon glanced anxiously at the smaller man, and then turned back to River. "The upstairs is closed for now...even for you. Sorry."

"I know exactly where he is and what he's doing. Honestly, you all desperately need lessons in espionage. I don't know why he's doing what he is; I don't like surprises."

She pushed past them and hurried up the steps. Ramon followed as quickly as possible. The waiter went slowly back to sweeping the floor, gritting his teeth.

River reached the top of the steps and paused, glancing left and right. Something was different. Something was missing. And the balcony was empty; not decorated or lit up like she had thought it would be. She looked right again and felt her heart sink.

"Where's the TARDIS?"

Ramon stopped behind her. "He didn't say where he was taking it. He told us not to tell you he left."

River swallowed hard, staring at the space that the TARDIS usually occupied. It was like a missing tooth; oppressively not where it should be, taunting. "We promised not to leave. Last year…"

She blinked quickly. Ramon took a tentative step closer. "He'll be back soon."

Quietly, River muttered, "He better."

"I'm sure he will be."

River's head turned sharply in Ramon's direction, eyes glistening. Louder, she stated, "He better."

She shook her head and wiped her eyes. "Sorry; I'm acting stupid."

Ramon reached out a metal hand and set it on her shoulder. "Not stupid. Human, maybe, but not stupid."

A muffled voice came from the belly of the robot shell. Ramon rolled his eyes. "Not now Nardole."

He shook his head at River. "Sorry. I'll be right back."

Ramon's head was soon replaced with Nardole's. River smiled with raised eyebrows. "Yes Nardole?"

"I just wanted to say that the Doctor is definitely gonna come back. He's mad for you. And he'd have to be even madder to leave."

"Thank you, Nardole."

Nardole nodded, and then was replaced again with Ramon. "I think I'll take him downstairs."

River nodded. "I'll be here."

"Good luck, River."

"Thank you."

The robot marched back down the steps. River turned with a sigh towards the empty hallway. Suddenly, a groaning met her ears. She thought she was imagining it, but then it grew. Finally, the unmistakable outline of the TARDIS formed in front of her. The bright blue came next, bright and shining under the light of the chandelier.

The door swung open and out popped the Doctor, a satisfied smile on his face. He pulled the doors closed and turned back around, coming directly face to face with River. She was livid. His smile dropped.

Next thing he knew, his left cheek was stinging and he was bent over, assessing the damage. Shock was plastered to his face. When he straightened himself again, River looked no less furious.

"Where the hell were you?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. "You promised. You said you wouldn't go, and then you did. How long have you been gone? A week? A month?"

"I didn't time travel, did I? How long has it been for you?"

"Just...this morning. Where did you go then? A different galaxy? Did you save a town from some Sontarans? Ooh, or did you finally stop the Daleks?"

Her sarcastic tone and her wet eyes took the Doctor's voice. His mouth opened and closed multiple times before any words came out. "River...I didn't...I wouldn't...I love being here with you."

A tear escaped down her cheek. "Then why did you leave?"

The Doctor smiled softly. "I had to go shopping."

River took a deep breath. "Is that really the excuse you're going with? I thought you'd left. I thought you got bored of me and ran away."

The Doctor shook his head. "It was supposed to be a nice little surprise. I went to Earth for some gifts from home and...wait, you thought I did what?"

His eyebrows furrowed, mouth agape. A tense silence hung between them for many seconds. Then the Doctor found his voice again, softer now, nearly a whisper.

"River, I would never do that to you. Why would you even think that?"

River replied very simply, "Isn't that what you always do?"

The silence returned, harsher, cooler. Neither spoke. They simply stared at one another, reading their partner's eyes, trying to get at the truth. The Doctor blinked rapidly, and then took River's hand gently into his own.

"Dr. River Song, I will never get bored of you, and I will never run away."

He bent down on one knee, and River's eyes widened. The Doctor dig a hand into the inside pocket of his jacket. He was wearing the old black one with the red lining, River's personal favorite. He grit his teeth as he muttered, "I was going to do this later. It was supposed to be romantic or something; one of the waiter's ideas."

He pulled out a small black box and opened it, revealing a ring with a beautiful sparkling diamond. His eyes met River's and he smiled innocently. She almost laughed in surprise, but her mouth was frozen.

"Dr. River Song, or Professor if you prefer-will you marry me?"

"Sweetie, we're already married."

The Doctor shrugged. "That was in an alternate timeline. And besides, I never got to ask you properly. The human way."

River allowed a wide grin to stretch across her face. The Doctor replied with an equally joyous grin of his own.

"So what'll it be, Professor Song?"

"Ask me again. And this time, you can just call me River."

The Doctor smiled at the floor, then looked up at his wife with eyes a thousand years younger than she'd seen of late. He looked like a schoolboy, falling in love for the first time.

"River, will you marry me?"

"Yes. Of course I will marry you, sweetie."

The Doctor got to his feet and was instantly tackled into an enormous hug from his wife/fiancé. He kept smiling. In fact, he found, he couldn't seem to stop smiling. As River placed the ring on her finger and kissed his cheek and then, surprisingly to him, his lips, he just couldn't help but smile and laugh. It was as if he had forgotten all of his sorrows; what this night meant; what was in store for he and River in just 23 years' time. None of that mattered. Only tonight. Only one moment at a time.

When the excitement had died down a little and all was quiet once more, the Doctor and River sauntered slowly out the door and stood on the balcony, side by side, just as they had a year before. The Doctor's eyes were fixed on the enormous towers, singing their endless song, as his Endless Song fiddled with the ring on her finger. It gleamed in the moonlight, dazzling her eyes with its complexities.

"Where did you get this?"

The Doctor gave her a knowing smile. Her jaw dropped. "You didn't-"

"I may have lied a little earlier; I did time travel. I talked to the lad I had given the diamond to and told him to have a small piece cut off and made into a ring. Sorry."

"Is that why the restaurant only has one V.I.P. Lounge? He couldn't afford another because you made him cut off part of the diamond?"

The Doctor shook his head. "And because you can only have one V.I.P. Lounge. If you have two, then which one is really for 'Very Important' people and which one is just for 'Important' people? It all gets confusing very quickly."

"'Very quickly' or just 'quickly'?"

The Doctor nodded. "Case in point."

River smiled at the ground, and then turned back up to face the Towers. Slowly, her hand found his on the balcony. They stayed like that for a moment, her thumb caressing his tense hand below, fingers intertwining. She edged ever closer to him. The only sound was a the wind, whistling a melody between the towers. River leaned her head on her husband's shoulder, closing her eyes and sinking into the moment.

"Happy anniversary, Sweetie."

The Doctor bent his head down to hers, tickling her forehead with his bangs. "Happy anniversary."

With both of their eyes closed, they let the night wind sing them through their anniversary, letting them forget the bad that was to come and focus on the wonderful present they had to share. For two time traveller's who knew apprehension and sorrow and loss better than anyone, that was the best anniversary gift they could receive.


	4. Resurface

4: Resurface

They had reached the end of the line. The Doctor and Clara, as always, trapped on the edge of safety. Their shoes slipped on the icy dock, so they held onto each other, their rapid breaths creating little clouds of fog in front of them. The people-or, aliens-chasing them also stood in front of them, a bit more menacing than their fogged breaths.

One was at least ten feet tall, his fists clenched by his sides. Every slow, deliberate step he took shook the entire dock. Beside him was a woman holding a curved sword. Her eyes were wild, like she had just been deeply insulted. Clara could confirm this, even if the Doctor was too blind to emotions not to. He had, in fact, insulted the entire village. Hence the tall guy and the sword lady.

Clara really needed to speed up their etiquette lessons.

The man took another step forward, and Clara automatically tried to step back before her foot nearly dropped off of the wood into empty air. The Doctor held her steady as she got her breath back.

"You have insulted us, and you shall pay."

The woman came forward, the sword in her hand even more menacing than before. Clara spared a quick glance at the Doctor, who was gritting his teeth. She knew his mind was working as fast as it could. She just wished it would work a bit quicker.

The sword came to rest just under his chin, curving in front of his throat. He didn't dare swallow, for fear of it touching his Adam's apple. Instead, he looked into the woman's eyes and searched for the right words.

"I know I've insulted you. I apologize. Just let my friend and I go and we will leave and never come back."

The woman's nostrils flared. The Doctor instantly knew he had definitely not chosen the right words.

"Are you trying to bargain for your life?"

The Doctor didn't respond. The woman let the sword drop to her side and took a step back. The Timelord let out a breath and touched his neck, making sure no damage was done. Clara almost drifted closer to him, but something in the other woman's eyes told her this wasn't finished.

"I believe you deserve a worse punishment than I or any other mortal could inflict on you. Give him to the sea."

The looming figure of the man approached, rattling the wooden boards beneath their feet. Clara's eyes went wide. "No; you can't! It's below freezing out here!"

The woman quirked an eyebrow. "Exactly. Mother nature shall have her way with pleading enemies."

The tall man's strong hands held the Doctor's arms behind his back roughly. The Timelord struggled, his shoes sliding uselessly against the wet planks, but it was to no avail. The man practically carried him to the edge of the dock.

The Doctor met Clara's eyes, trying to convey at least five different emotions in one glance. Her eyes were glistening with stressful tears.

The hands holding firmly onto his arms suddenly cast him into the air, as if he were a child's doll. Time stopped then, or at least, slowed down.

He heard Clara scream instantly. That was the most prominent thing. The world around him was a spinning swirl of blues and whites and grays. The air was salty. In different circumstances, this would've almost been fun, like a day at the beach or an amusement park ride.

He hit the water and all of his senses stunted.

Clara's screams died instantly, replaced by a loud ringing that threatened to puncture his eardrum. The swirling colors disappeared in front of him. Now all he saw was blackness. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was freezing, and he knew he was in pain, but it hadn't registered; not yet.

Ever so slowly, his eyes drifted open. He was sinking. The sunlight streaming through the top layers of ocean were getting farther away. He couldn't tell whether his mouth was open or not. It was like a dream that he wasn't in any control of. His mind just accepted everything as what it was. There was no questioning; no analyzing. It was actually rather calm. He almost enjoyed this sensation.

Suddenly, the weight of his situation dawned on him. His eyes widened as his nerves felt the pain from the impact. His arms and legs were sore, unable even to move. His chest felt waterlogged and heavy, like an elephant was sat on it. He knew he had to swim up, get to the surface, get to Clara. But that was far out of his reach right now. That was impossible.

Instead, he let his body sink further. The light danced through the water. It was beautiful. The blues and greens were sparkling; mystifying. The ringing was gone from his ears, replaced with an emptiness he hadn't known for centuries.

His whole life up until this point had been about running; dodging; fearing; screaming. Now all was calm and so, so quiet.

The edges of his vision went black. The ocean above him was a vignette; blue waves with the white circle of the sun surrounded by darkness. As he watched, a figure suddenly blocked the sun. They were growing, coming closer. His vision was blurred and darkening. His mind was practically blank. He felt the figure grab onto his arms and torso just as his eyes slipped shut. Then he knew no more. Everything faded away.

* * *

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt the air hit his face. It was freezing, and it instantly made him shiver, but he knew somehow that it was good. He gasped for air, but water was still clogging his throat, making it impossible to breath. That was when the panic started to set in.

He was no longer unconscious, or even semi-conscious. Now he was in a strange zone in between the two. He could hear Clara, whom he now knew the figure to be, whispering comforting words as she struggled for breath herself. He felt the icy, bitter air whipping at his wet face. He knew they were above the surface of the water, and he knew they were heading back to the shore, but still he couldn't figure out how to breath; how to open his eyes.

His hearts were hammering in his chest. His teeth were chattering. Finally, he felt his back collide with the course, gravelly beach, and Clara's voice strengthened beside his ear.

"C'mon, Doctor, breath. Breath, I've got you."

He felt his body turn onto its side, due to Clara or himself, he couldn't tell. Then he finally found the energy and the ability to take in a big, messy lungful of air, consequently coughing and sputtering onto the beach. Clara rubbed his back and his hair as he slowly gained control of himself, whispering to gently.

"That's better. Just breath. I'm right here. There you go."

After a minute or two, the Doctor rolled back onto his back, opening his eyes for the first time since he'd left the water. Clara's wide eyes loomed above him, filled with concern and relief and tears. He smiled weakly. "Hey teach."

His teeth were chattering so badly, he could hardly make out the words. Instantly, his human companion pulled him close to herself, rubbing his arms, trying to share her body heat. He let his eyes close again, head leaned against her shoulder, listening to the waves crashing onto the shoreline. Clara's fingers stroked his hair and his arm as she got her emotions under control. After a few minutes of this, she eyed him curiously.

"Are you okay?"

He looked back up at her. "'Course. Always."

She sniffled and held the side of his face with her palm. "You don't have a concussion or anything, do you? Do you remember what happened?"

"I was sinking, and then...you helped me resurface."

Bashfully, she smiled. He raised a limp hand and stroked the hair near her ear. "Thank you, once again, Clara Oswald, for saving my life."

His hand dropped to his chest nonchalantly as his eyes drifted closed again. Clara simply held him as she listened to the horrible water and the howling wind. They would find the TARDIS soon enough, and have a mandatory tea-and-book-reading night, but for now they were alright just sitting here, basking in the gloriousness of being alive.


	5. Winter

5: Winter

Jackie Tyler had long ago established a 'have her home every other weekend' rule. (Bringing their daughter home a year late does that to a mother). Most of the time, the Doctor was absolutely fine with this decree. He always had repairs to make on the TARDIS console, milk runs to make, and all of time and space to keep him busy while Rose and her mother did...whatever it was humans typically did on the weekend. What he wasn't fine with, however, was he himself getting trapped in Jackie Tyler's flat for an entire two days. That was, in his own words, the opposite of fantastic.

It started on a completely average, if a bit nippy, January afternoon. The Doctor was leaned on the front door of the TARDIS, crossing his arms over his leather jacket, trying to look cool but not cold. Rose, meanwhile, was dashing up the steps, her scarf covering most of her face, her boots squishing against the centimeter or so of snow that had fallen earlier that morning. Her backpack was almost as big as she was, filled with laundry to be done and strange artifacts from alien planets she had sworn wouldn't leave the flat. All was well, and the Doctor was about to retreat back into the warmth of the TARDIS, when a voice belonging to none other than Jacqueline Tyler rang out from the balcony above.

"I made you both some hot cocoa."

The Doctor turned wide, incredulous eyes up at the blonde woman. "Both?"

"Don't think you're runnin' off again. I think I deserve at least a five minute conversation with you."

A glance to Rose told him she was giggling beneath all of the fabric covering her face. They shared a few faces at each other befor Jackie called out again, "Come on, then, we'll all catch our death out here!"

The Doctor double-checked the TARDIS lock with a sigh and trudged after Rose. Something in the air told him he wouldn't be leaving the Tylers anytime soon. Part of him was almost pleased with that. But that part of him was negligible next to the mound of dread piling up in his brain.

When they reached Jackie, she greeted Rose with a big hug and commented on how thin she looked, which pointed her angry gaze at the Doctor, who stood pinching his earlobe absentmindedly. When Rose went inside, the Doctor seriously though for a moment that Jackie was going to toss him over the railing, but instead she grabbed him in a hug of his own. Shocked, the Doctor merely froze, meeting Rose's eye as she stood in the threshold sans backpack. She smiled warmly at him, and he eased a little further into the strangely domestic world he had dropped so accidentally into.

Jackie let him go and clapped her hands, ushering Rose back inside as she palavered about life in London and her sister's strange whereabouts. The Doctor stood on the balcony for a moment, still wondering why he was enjoying this so much. He could be off galavanting through an alien cave; what was he doing having cocoa with Jackie Tyler? What was he doing accepting hugs and sitting inside and gossiping?

"Doctor, you coming?"

Rose called him from the doorway. She already had her coat and scarf off and in her hand was a mug full of Jackie Tyler's famous hot cocoa. She looked so ordinarily human right there, standing in her flat, sipping out of a mug with far too many cats on it. So ordinary, so human, and so utterly perfect. The Doctor grinned and followed her inside, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as he entered the flat, he was met with Jackie, fussing about how he would catch a cold and how he should take off 'that old, freezing' leather jacket and put on one of her hoodies, because she always bought them a few sizes too big and he would probably fit into one. Rose watched with amusement as he finally sat down, wide-eyed, clothed in a dark blue Nike hoodie, holding a red cup of steaming cocoa. The Doctor had to agree that this was, certainly, quite the adventure.

As the three of them drank their cocoa, Rose told her mother stories of their adventures, especially ones where they didn't end up imprisoned or otherwise endangered. (She knew well enough that Jackie didn't think too highly of the Doctor. She'd rather not give her actual reason to hate him). Once or twice, the Doctor chimed in, usually to explain an alien tradition or give details on the planet's atmospheric wonders. Jackie listened to their stories silently, her hand hovering over her open mouth during the scarier bits. It was all going very well until the Doctor happened to look out the window.

"No, no, no, no, no!"

He set his empty cup on the coffee table roughly as he dashed over to the aperture. Snow was falling rapidly from the sky, almost completely blocking the view to the TARDIS. Through the foggy snowflakes, though, the Doctor could tell his ship was already buried in almost ten centimeters of the white stuff.

"I better get going. Don't want to get the TARDIS trapped here."

Jackie followed him to the door as he threw on his jacket. Rose was close behind, still finishing her cocoa. Jackie railed at the Timelord as he opened the door and stepped out.

"Rose, tell him he has to stay! I'm finally starting to like him."

The Doctor gave her a sarcastic smile. "Thanks for that. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, Jackie. Have a nice weekend, Rose!"

"Bye, Doctor."

Jackie sighed but stayed in the threshold as the Doctor hurried downstairs, slipping once or twice but catching himself on the railing. Rose hung back, keeping as warm as she could. When her mother failed to close the door and come inside after another full minute, she set down her mug and hugged herself, shivering. "What are you still doing?"

"He's locked out, I think."

"What?"

"I told him he should just stay in here."

Rose went to the door and let her face split in a wide grin. The Doctor was standing at the TARDIS door, struggling to turn the key, muttering angry insults at the hardware. Finally, he gave the door one last kick and trudged back up the steps. It was hard to tell whether his face was red from the wind or the realization that Rose and Jackie had been there the whole time. Anyway, he shrugged his shoulders and cleared his throat. "Door's jammed. Meant to fix it…"

His eyes failed to meet Jackie's as she answered the unspoken question. "Come on, then. We'll set you up on the couch tonight."

Thus, the Doctor spent the evening in the Tyler household, helping Rose set the table for their pasta supper and even fixing the telly when it went on the fritz. That night, he and Rose sat huddled together on the couch together as Jackie eyed them suspiciously from her own chair. At one point, Rose randomly grabbed for the remote.

"You know, they've got this show about you on Saturday night. There're a bunch of conspiracy theories and everything. It's pretty popular. I think it's called 'Doctor What?'".

The screen changed from a football match to the image of a young man with a tweed jacket and a bowtie. The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows. "Is that supposed to be me?"

Rose laughed. "I guess so. People have all kind of ideas about who you might be and everything. Some say you can change your face or something like that."

The Doctor's expression turned serious as he watched the show more closely. Rose gazed at him for a moment before adding, "It's not a big deal or anything. Just some crackpots having fun, probably."

The Doctor eased back into the couch, but still looked a bit unsettled. Rose yawned suddenly. "I'm knackered. Think I'll be off to bed. See you in the morning."

Jackie flipped off the telly. "I think we should all get some sleep."

Rose went off to her room as Jackie stood awkwardly above the Doctor, still sat on the couch. "Will you be okay, here? Do you have enough blankets and everything? You do sleep, right?"

The Doctor chuckled. "Not as much as you, but yes, I sleep."

"Alright. Night, then."

"Night, Jackie."

Jackie started off towards the hall, but the Doctor had a sudden idea. "Jackie?"

"Yeah sweetheart?"

The Doctor blinked, stunned for a moment, at that nickname, then continued. "Thank you. For letting me stay here."

"Well, we couldn't leave you in the cold, could we?"

The Doctor smiled and looked at his folded hands. Jackie started off again, but stopped herself and turned back around. "Thank you."

The Doctor's head shot up in confusion. "For what?"

"Keeping her safe. Taking her on adventures. It's all she ever talks about."

The Doctor smiled softly. "It's my pleasure."

They shared a smile before Jackie finally did head off to bed and the Doctor laid down on the couch, covering himself with a few old blankets. He couldn't believe he was actually here, lying on a couch, having had cocoa, eaten supper, and watched telly with Rose and her mum. He really was changing. He really was becoming more domestic. And, for once in his life, he found that he was really enjoying it.


	6. Cruelty

6: Cruelty

They had been back in the TARDIS for a while,

now, but the Doctor's words still echoed in Clara's ears.

 _"You just want cruelty to beget cruelty. You're not superior to people who were cruel to you. You're just a whole bunch of new cruel people."_

Clara shuddered as she remembered the sound of the Doctor's voice cracking; the sight of his eyes lighting up with memories of his past.

 _"I fought in a bigger war than you will ever know! I did worse things than you could ever imagine and when I close my eyes-"_

Clara turned to the floor, taking in a deep breath, chest still aching from it all. Her poor Doctor. What on earth had he been through? What did he never tell even her about? What kinds of horrors have those two hearts been carrying all this time?

She looked up and he was exactly where he'd been since he'd flown them to a point just out of Earth's atmosphere: sitting in the threshold of the door, legs hanging limply over the edge of the TARDIS, staring out at the planet below him. Clara took a step closer to him as he sighed deeply, his shoulders shaking as they shrugged back down.

Softly, Clara asked, "Are you okay?"

The Doctor turned halfway to face her, a smile lifting the edges of his lips just a little. She smiled encouragingly back, even if he couldn't see her. Slowly, she eased herself beside him and looked out.

"It's beautiful."

The Doctor turned fully to her now, watching her glowing eyes and the small parting of her lips as she watched her planet revolving ever so slowly below them. He couldn't find the words to describe what he was feeling, so he said nothing. Instead, he merely stared at her until she looked back at him.

They stared into each other's eyes for a moment and Clara was taken suddenly back into the Black Archives.

 _"No one else will ever have to live like this. No one else will ever have to feel this pain."_

She didn't know her eyes had filled with tears until she blinked and his face transformed into an impressionist painting. Quickly, she turned back towards the Earth and wiped her eyes nonchalantly with her sleeve. The Doctor took a deep breath and followed her gaze to the blue dot below.

"You're right."

Clara halted in her eye-wiping, wrist still hovering near her face. "What?"

"The Earth is beautiful."

Clara dropped her hand to her lap, chuckling softly. "That means a lot, coming from you today."

The Doctor blinked a few too many times and Clara's face dropped. "I'm sorry."

He turned to her again, and then instantly back out the door, shifting how he was seated awkwardly. "No, no, it's fine. Today was…"

"Tough."

"Yes...that it was."

He was contemplative. Contemplative and sounding more thoughtful than usual, which usually meant he was deeply concentrated and deeply lost in the intricate network that was his brain. Clara watched him for a moment, wondering how to call him back. Whenever this happened, he could wander in his mind for days, hardly speaking, eyes distant. Luckily she had only witnessed him in this kind of mood a few times. Unluckily, that meant she didn't really know how best to deal with it. Anyway, she tried her best.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

At first he seemed not to hear her, staring out at the stars, but then he turned his face to her with a strange mixture of nervousness and gratitude. "Talk?"

"Only if you want to. What I mean is...I'm here if you need to talk. About anything."

He smiled as he turned back to the planet. "I'm not usually the talking sort."

She grinned as she looked at her hands in her lap. "I suppose not."

For a moment, they simply sat, watching the Earth again, listening to the soft purr of the TARDIS. Then, suddenly, the Doctor spoke again. "I'm tired of fighting."

Clara picked her head up. The Doctor was still staring at the planet below, but she knew his eyes were looking somewhere else entirely. There were flames burning on the edges of his irises; like the last touches of a dying ember. A memory of what had once been a raging fire.

"No matter where I go, they always want to fight. And it's never over anything important. It's never really about love or freedom or any other big words they make up to get recruits. Usually it's pride, or greed, or, most of the time, a misunderstanding."

His eyes shifted back and forth as his mind raced around, trying to understand itself. "All over the universe people fighting; burning houses; dropping bombs. And then it all ends and one side ends up with more and one with less. And then a few years later the ones with less just rise up again and start another war. And the cycle continues. And it's always the same."

Clara looked down and saw the Doctor's hands for the first time, holding onto the bottom frame of the TARDIS threshold with a white-knuckle grip. Softly, and ever so slowly, she placed her hand on top of his. She expected him to jump at the sudden touch, but surprisingly he simply closed his eyes and let her thumb massage his knuckles. Then, to Clara's shock and pleasure, he leaned his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

Clara kept holding the Doctor's hand with her left, but with her right she stroked the Doctor's hair, combing it back comfortingly. She leaned her head against his curls and he didn't protest, so there they sat for a few minutes, breathing in the quiet, tender moment.

The Doctor's voice entered the space five minutes later, softer and more broken than it had been before.

"I can't keep doing this, Clara; fighting in everyone else's wars. Helping the 'good guys' win, whatever that means. Why can't I just lose? Why can't I just give up?"

Clara lifted her head up and turned sharply to the Doctor, who was still resting on her shoulder. She lowered her hand from the Doctor's hair and brought it to his chin, which she slowly turned up to face herself.

"Hey, Doctor, look at me."

His watery blue eyes stabbed her heart. He seemed so young in that moment; so fragile and broken. Clara cursed Bonnie for a second, but knew she wasn't really to blame for most of the Doctor's pain.

"Today was a hard day. And you're right; there are a lot of hard days. But we can't give up. Never cruel or cowardly, remember?"

"I made that promise a long time ago. I didn't known then-"

"Doctor…" Clara closed her eyes. "Please, just listen for a minute."

He shut his mouth and lowered his gaze.

"You're allowed to be sad. And you're allowed to be angry. Everyone is. But don't you dare give up. Don't you ever let it change you. You're the Doctor. You chose that name for a reason. You help people. And people...people can be infuriating. They're cross and idiotic messes who don't know right from wrong. But that's why they need you. You make people better. You bring out the best of humanity. You are never given the credit you deserve, and I am sorry that you have lived through so much pain and hatred, but by God I am not going to let this make you callous or cruel. You can relax for a day or two; you've earned it. But you are not going to sit in here and sulk about the worst of the universe when there is so much to see and so much to do out there. At some point, you are going to have to get up, off your arse, and show me the stars again; and yes, you are going to have to win a few more fights for the good guys because you are the Doctor and that is what you do."

The Doctor sat with a stunned expression on his face for many moments, mouth hanging open. Clara's eyes danced around his face. Had she gone too far? Had she given her mouth too much freedom? Should she have been kinder; gentler?

"Clara."

She practically held her breath for a second before he lunged at her, pulling her into a big hug, digging his face into her shoulder. "My impossible girl, you are absolutely right."

She returned the hug, feeling a few weights in her chest lift. When the Doctor finally pulled away, he jumped to his feet and went instantly to the Console. "Which stars did you want to see?"

Clara slowly got to her own feet, adjusting her wrinkled shirt. "Is a hug all you needed, then?"

The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows at her. "That wasn't a hug."

"So you weren't just trying to hide your face?"

"Of course not. I think our relationship is beyond that by this point, Clara."

Clara leaned her arms on the Console, looking through the Time Rotor to the Doctor on the opposite side, fiddling with the controls. "What was it, then?"

The Doctor peered around the central column with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. "That, Miss Oswald, was an embrace."


	7. Uncle

7: Uncle

"He's brilliant!"

"Shh, keep your voice down or mum'll have both of our heads."

"But I've only got the one left."

"Come on, then, let's let 'im sleep."

"Alright. Goodnight Tony Tyler. Rose!"

Rose rolled her eyes, not for the first time since bringing the Meta Crisis Doctor home to meet her little brother. It had been a month since the fateful day that the DoctorDonna was created; three weeks since he'd found a job beside her at UNIT; only a few days since Jackie had finally said they could babysit Tony by themselves while she and Pete had a much needed night out.

Of course she trusted her daughter, and she even trusted the Doctor a bit more, though the fact that he was part human, part Timelord didn't help any. But being in the parallel universe with Pete alive again and with more economic and social stability gave Jackie extra incentive to do her best. She'd struggled with Rose; gave too many thrift store presents and invited too many men into their home, all ending in disappointment and heartbreak. With Tony, she was determined to do it right. She had everything she needed to give him the best of lives, and she knew it. She, better than anyone, understood how lucky she was to be living the life she now did.

So it came as no shock to anyone when Jackie kept Tony held firmly in her grasp every time the Doctor seemed all too enthusiastic to grab him in his own arms. As the Doctor appeared more and more dejected, and as Tony's terrible twos started showing, Jackie finally decided it was time to let the young couple babysit, just for one night.

So here they stood, leaned over Tony's crib on a Friday night, Rose tugging the Doctor's sleeve as he fawned over her baby brother.

"Tony Tyler, more like Tiny Tyler."

Rose sighed again, smiling despite all attempts to be annoyed. She couldn't help finding the Doctor a bit endearing as he gazed down at Tony with a big smile on his face. That combined with the terrible dad jokes made her daydream about their own children. Their own family. Maybe they would take some time off of UNIT for a while. Move into a little cottage...take walks on the beach every morning...have two kids and a dog running around in the garden.

Rose shook her head as Tony began wailing, finally woken by the Doctor's incessant chatter. Her beautiful daydream washed away with the tide, as did her infatuation with the Doctor, temporarily.

"Now you've done it."

The Doctor stepped aside with a cringing smile as Rose lifted Tony into her arms. The Doctor fiddled with his earlobe awkwardly as Rose bounced her brother and shushed him quietly. When their eyes met, he mouthed a quick apology.

"Shhh; what's wrong, Tony? The Doctor wake ya?"

The boy's crying softened to a whimper. The Doctor muttered, "Sorry."

Rose turned to him with a softer expression. "It's fine. He's like this a lot lately. Everything sets him off."

Tony had quieted down and started to close his eyes, so Rose placed him gently back into the crib and locked it. "I'm gonna pop to the loo for a second. Can you make sure he goes to sleep?"

"Sure."

"You're okay by yourself, right?"

"I used to be a dad, Rose, I think I can watch him for a minute."

His tone had been light, almost playful, but his words sent chills down Rose's spine. How could she have forgotten? Actually, had he ever really mentioned it before? Perhaps in passing. But had he ever really talked to her about that part of his life? Maybe he didn't want to. Maybe it hurt too much.

Rose realized she was staring at him when his left eyebrow arched in an unspoken question. She laughed it off and quickly left before it could get awkward, but his last words echoed in her brain all the way down the hall.

As Rose went out of the room, the Doctor sunk into the rocking chair in the corner of the room beside a lamp filled with stickers depicting footballers and trains. From a bookshelf he plucked The Rainbow Fish. He had it read by the time Tony began mumbling something to him a minute later.

"Iwan' mil."

The Doctor set the book back on the shelf and came beside the crib, feeling a bit more nervous than he should have to be addressed by a two year-old. "I'm sorry?"

"I want milk."

"Oh," the Doctor's eyes widened, "right. Milk. Okay."

He left the room in a hurry and went right to the kitchen, where he dashed around for a second completely lost. When he finally found the bottle of milk in the fridge, intelligently already prepared by Jackie, he silently thanked her and started back towards the room. In the hallway, though, Rose was carrying her ringing phone towards the kitchen he was leaving. She eyed him curiously before she noticed the bottle in his hand.

"Did he ask for that?"

"Yeah."

Her phone rang out again and she cringed. "I'm sorry, I really have to take this. Do you mind-?"

"No, not at all; it's fine."

"Thank you."

The Doctor watched her pad barefoot into the kitchen with a feeling his Timelord side would probably snarkily attribute to 'domestics'. This new him, though, with that little kick of human...he was okay with this feeling. He loved this feeling. Seeing Rose walking barefoot in her pajamas as he carried a bottle of cold milk to a sleepy, slightly grumpy child...he could get used to this.

He returned to the crib's side as Tony sat up with his hands outstretched above him. The Doctor set the bottle on top of the bookshelf and scooped the child up beneath his armpits. Tony giggled, and the Doctor smiled. When he had him secured in his arms, he sat in the rocking chair and set him on his lap.

"Hi Tony. How are you doing tonight?"

"Milk!"

Tony was grabbing for the bottle sitting just out of reach on the bookshelf. The Doctor grabbed it and handed it to him, holding the bottle loosely in case Tony decided to drop it.

"This isn't so bad, is it? Your mummy didn't trust me to keep you safe. Wish she could see me now."

Rose had finished her phone conversation and returned to the room, but she stopped in the doorway with an unreadable expression. A soft smile reached across her lips as she watched the Doctor interact with her little brother. He was a natural. A beautiful, spectacular natural. Who knew the Doctor would be so good at something so domestic? Just three short years ago, Rose would've fainted at this sight.

"Your Uncle Doctor's gonna take good care of you."

"I don't think you're his uncle."

The Doctor looked up with wide eyes. When he met Rose's, though, he relaxed into a grin. "No?"

Rose entered the room, resting a hand on the back of the Doctor's chair. "If anything, maybe a brother-in-law?"

The Doctor raised his eyebrows, giving Tony complete control of the bottle as he unconsciously loosened his grip. "Brother-brother in law?"

Rose shook her head, hiding her face. "I didn't mean...maybe someday. This isn't a proposal...oh my God."

The Doctor sat stunned, mouth working silently for many moments. Then, suddenly, something hard made contact with his head, and stars were sent into his eyes.

"Tony! You can't do that to people!"

Rose was grabbing Tony from the Doctor's lap while he blinked and shook his head to clear his vision. She held the baby on her hip with a horrified expression as she turned to the Doctor.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

She turned her attention to her brother, who was reaching out for the bottle that had slipped to the floor in the excitement. "You gonna say you're sorry to the Doctor?"

Tony didn't seem to hear her at first, but after she nudged him a bit, he turned big eyes to the Doctor, who had stood in front of him, still rubbing his head. "Sorry."

Rose nodded and set him back in the crib, making sure it was locked before grabbing the bottle from the floor and leading the Doctor to the hallway. She shut the door before Tony could protest.

"Sorry about that."

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "No, no; it's fine. Believe me, I've been hit with worse than a two year-old's bottle."

Rose bit her lip as she gazed up at him. She held his chin and turned his head to get a better look at his forehead, which was still very pink. "Well, you now you're officially an uncle; bruises and all. That was the initiation; didn't you know?"

The Doctor gave her a puzzled expression. "Uncle? Don't you mean brother-in-law?"

Rose's eyes widened. The Doctor grinned. "I-I don't have any plans, really. This isn't...I mean, I don't have a ring on me. But...I think it's an option for someday, right?"

Rose nodded subconsciously, staring into his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah; someday."

Slowly, they each smiled in turn, and Rose found her hand resting on the back of his neck. Suddenly, their lips were pressed together. The Doctor held her face in his hands gently. They giggled as they parted, and it was only then that they realized the door had opened a moment before.

They looked up sheepishly, still holding onto each other, to find Jackie and Pete standing in front of the door. She was standing with her arms crossed, eyebrow raised; he with a small grin standing just behind her. She smirked sarcastically.

"Last time I'm having you two babysit together."

Rose and the Doctor looked to each other and couldn't help but share one last smile.


	8. Happiest

8: Happiest

Clara was at the front of her classroom trying to ignore the alien mopping the floor outside her door. She forced her eyes and her brain to focus on her students, who were listening with more patience and cooperation than usual. She was giving 110% to keep her attention on the assignment she was explaining. But he just looked so utterly ridiculous out there in the corridor, whistling, his 'undercover' orange-y coat flapping beside his knees as he worked. He had sworn there wasn't an invasion this time; he was just here to 'see what humans are up to these days'. For once, Clara was actually trusting him on that. She had made him swear on his Sonic and the TARDIS that he wasn't lying, so she felt pretty sure.

Even so, just him being there was an enormous distraction. The whole day, she knew she could fly off in the box and forget all the young angsty teenagers for a while. Right after she was hit with a poorly thrown paper airplane, she passed right by the maintenance closet where the Doctor was keeping the TARDIS. Needless to say, she showed a lot of self control in that moment.

So now here she stood, glancing out the door every few seconds, struggling to stay on the tracks of her train of thought. Finally, she shook her head and turned to the class, noting from the clock on the side wall that they only had seven minutes left in the day. She could make it for seven minutes.

"So for tomorrow, I want you to brainstorm some ideas for that essay. Write a list of ten things that make you happy and then circle the top three you think you might want to write about."

A boy in the first row raised his hand. "Are we going to have to write three different essays?"

"No, we're going to share them with the class and talk about which ones we should write the paper on."

Two kids groaned. Choruses of "Share them?" and "Why do we always have to share?" erupted instantly. Clara eyed the clock. Five minutes.

"Because sharing helps us be better writers. You can't get better if you don't get some help now and then, eh?"

A few students nodded dejectedly. Others were already stuffing their notebooks into their backpacks, eyeing the clock. Clara couldn't blame them. She backpedalled behind her desk and looked at the clock again. "Let's just relax for a few minutes before the bell rings. You can talk, but don't get too loud. We don't want the other classes feeling left out."

As the students laughed and teased, Clara hurriedly put her things away. As she threw on her sweater, she realized the Doctor was still standing out in the hall, absentmindedly wiping the mop against the shining floor. His eyes were staring blankly at a spot just above him, looking at empty air. Clara raised an eyebrow and went back to fiddling with her purse.

The bell rang and, after the students had all fled the room in a jumble of squeaky trainers and blasting headphones, Clara stood beside her desk and looked over the room. As always, it reminded her slightly of Mars. Mars after the Ice Warriors had been there. Sighing deeply, she left a note of apology for the caretaker, before remembering that he was 'ill' again. Clara closed her eyes. Could she really handle the Doctor right now? She loved him, but she really wanted a cup of tea and a lie down first.

But as soon as she saw his grey head bent over the broom he was swiping across the floor, her mind was made up for her.

"Ready to go, 'Caretaker'?"

He was slow to react, glancing up a moment or two later with eyes that were slightly vacant, staring right through her. His mouth fell open dumbly. "Yeah. Ready."

Clara gave him a raised eyebrow, but shook it off. He was probably tired after a day of 'caretaking', though she swore he never did any actual work on these little 'take your timelord to school' days. Regardless, she slung her purse over her shoulder and shut the door of her classroom, leading the way to the supply closet where the TARDIS was currently residing. The Doctor hung back a few steps the whole time, leaning the broom against a random wall at some point in their journey. When they finally did reach the TARDIS, the Doctor seemed to finally perk up, unlocking the door and swapping his orange jacket for his black velvet one almost instantly. He was at the Console holding onto the controls before Clara had even stashed her purse away in one of the TARDIS' lockers.

When they met eyes, his wandered around her face for a while, hands still sitting loosely on the levers and buttons. "You look like you need a rest."

Clara smirked. "Doctor, we talked about this. You can't just tell people bad things about their appearance-it's not polite!"

He blinked rapidly, dropping his hands to his sides. "No, no, I mean...I'm concerned. Because you look sleepy. Do you need to, I don't know, cat-nap? Do humans cat-nap? There are some humans who are part cat, so it's very possible-"

"I'm fine."

Clara had realized long ago that when the Doctor got started, he could go on for hours. Still, she felt a little guilty as his expression turned from mild curiosity to dejection. To soften the blow, she quietly added, "But maybe I should just go rest for a bit while you fly. Long day."

They shared a quick smile before the human disappeared down one of the TARDIS' long corridors, yawning when she was out of the Doctor's sight. How could he always see right through her? More importantly, why didn't she ever want him to see right through her?

The questions danced around Clara's exhausted mind as she walked the familiar path toward her private quarters, a quaint little suite decked with just a bed, closet, toilet, and reading nook. She smiled as she remembered afternoons past spent tucked in the corner armchair reading Jane Austen after particularly rough TARDIS trips. On those days, the Doctor would always surprise her with a steaming cup of tea and a gentle hand on her shoulder. Even if hugging was still reserved for special occasions, he'd been altogether more affectionate with her since their departure at the cafe all those months ago. Clara couldn't tell if it were because of her tragedy with Danny or his own with Gallifrey. Either way, though, she appreciated the more sentimental compassionate Doctor. She had found in recent years that there could never be too much kindness or love in the world. The opposites of those two things were already far too present.

Clara breathed in the smell of her bookshelf and flopped down onto her bed, where her eyes closed automatically. She was much more tired than she had even known herself, and soon she had drifted off, dreaming of travelling through the Time Vortex in a big yellow school bus instead of a TARDIS. She smiled in her sleep at the thought, though it seemed all too familiar.

When she had found her way back to the Console Room, it was empty. She scratched her bed-headed hair, blinking her sleep-laden eyes slowly as she gazed around the space. "Doctor?"

"Coming."

The voice came from beneath the deck. Clara followed it down the steps and found the Doctor sat at the messy desk on the other side of the TARDIS' mainframe, scribbling away at something. As she stepped forward though, his hand covered most of the paper. The teacher was not impressed.

"What are you working on?"

"It's nothing. Boring Timelord stuff. Why don't you go pick some coordinates?"

He was speaking quickly, with much less confidence than his usual tone usually suggested. Clara smirked. "Come on, you can show me. When have I ever judged you?"

He eyed her suspiciously. She chuckled.

"Okay, other than calling you old or daft a few times. But those are terms of endearment, you know that!"

He jerked at her words, turning away. His cheeks flashed pink for a second and he gripped the paper in his hands tighter before sighing and loosening his hold. Clara easily procured it from his bony fingers. He folded his empty hands together awkwardly.

"'Ten Things that Make Me Happy'."

Clara's jaw dropped into a wide smile. She started to say something, but thought the better of it. Instead, she went with a more humorous approach. "You did this faster than any of my students probably did."

Her eyes scanned the page. "10: My Sonic Screwdriver. No surprise there. 9: Tea; are you sure you're not actually British? 8: Learning new things. 7: Gallifrey."

Clara cast him an anxious glance. He turned to the floor sullenly, his face still deepening in color. "6: Earth. 5: Stopping Daleks. 4: Saving/helping people. 3: Travelling. 2: My TARDIS. 1: My Clara-"

Her voice faded out as her big eyes turned to him. His face was properly scarlet now, his eyes boring into the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the universe. When he finally looked up, Clara had tears pricking the edges of her eyes. She cleared her throat and blinked them away quickly, looking to the paper again. "So...which three might you write an essay about?"

The Doctor took the paper from her and looked it over. After mulling over it for a minute, he began circling his three options. "I can definitely write about stopping Daleks. There are a lot of stories there. And the TARDIS is literally infinite, and the mathematical principles can easily take up two hundred pages, so that would be pretty simple. And my third choice would be…"

He circled a third option and handed her the page. Her name was circled. She smiled. "What would you write about me? I hope I'm nothing like the Daleks you're stopping. And I'm not exactly infinite."

"Of course you're infinite. Every time I think I know you, you end up surprising me. Usually by jumping into an abyss or running into the middle of a battle. I can't say I'm glad that you do those things, but...it's part of what makes you so...human."

They shared a moment of silence, then Clara eyed him curiously. "Did you put that list in order?"

The Doctor smiled shyly. "You make me happiest, if that's what you're wondering."

"What, more than the TARDIS and the adventuring? Even stopping Daleks?"

The Doctor cocked his head, giving her his warmest eyes. "Yes."

Clara held the piece of paper out in front of her for him to take. "Ditto, daft old man."


	9. Bunting

9: Bunting

Donna Noble had been travelling with the Doctor for a while, and trusted him a great deal, but this so-called 'alien planet' looked no different from the English country fields her mum had forced her into visiting every summer holiday. The same green grass rolled over the same hills she remembered from her youth. Some of the trees even looked like the ones she used to climb, to her mother's displeasure. Donna chuckled as she remembered her mum's chastises. The Doctor turned a raised eyebrow on his companion.

"Did I miss something?"

In truth, Donna had almost forgotten about her Timelord friend walking three paces ahead of her, but she used this moment to interrogate him. "This looks exactly like England. Are you having me on again, Spaceman?"

His face crinkled in mock offense. "Of course not. And what do you mean 'again'?"

"Pompeii. You said we were in Rome, remember?"

He tilted his and put his hands in his pockets. "Well, that was a mistake. But this is honestly Helspoon Seven, though strictly between us, they do take a lot of influence from primitive human times."

"Primitive?"

He grit his teeth slightly. "Sorry, to space-travelling humans of the twenty-fourth century, your lot sort of is primitive."

Donna smirked. "Aren't I a space traveller?"

The Doctor gave his friend a long, warm smile. "That's right...now, futuristic, ultra complex human Donna Noble...I give you the mixed human-alien race of Helspoon Seven!"

They came to the top of the highest hill in the valley and Donna's jaw dropped. Below them was a beautiful array of smaller hills, which looked almost like gumdrops, and beyond them was an enormous city. Skyscrapers taller than those in New York City stretched into the clouds, and cars flew through the air in perfect lines going this way and that. Even from this distance, Donna could read the large screen on the side of one of the buildings. In red print it said "First Human-Helspoon President Elected in History". The Doctor looked to his companion and grinned ear to ear.

"Not a bad future, is it?"

"I thought we'd all, I don't know, kill ourselves with missiles or carbon dioxide or something. But this…"

"You lot. You're always so pessimistic; thinking your days are numbered. But look at you! Meeting other species, making friends, making more-than-friends." The Doctor winked and Donna laughed. "And some of you move past hatred and division and war and you-"

"Watch out!"

The Doctor and Donna were tackled to the ground just before a small but incredibly loud explosion went off just a few meters away. Donna picked her head up quickly and darted her eyes around her. "Doctor, what's all the bunting for?"

The Doctor slowly sat up and turned up to whoever had tackled him. His eyes met a young man, who wore a hard black vest and a gray helmet. The Timelord frowned. "What are the flags for?"

The boyish soldier fiddled with his dirty helmet and glanced over to a fellow soldier, a woman a few years older who was still getting to her feet after tackling Donna. The woman answered the Doctor.

"Don't tell anyone in the citadel. They can't know."

The Doctor got to his feet quickly, not taking his eyes off the woman. "We're not from the city. But what are you doing that's so secret?"

The woman bit her lip and glanced to the younger man beside her. Something in his eyes seemed to strengthen her resolve. "We come out here sometimes...us and the Helspoonians. The pure Helspoonians, that is. We...we settle our differences."

The Doctor's happy-go-lucky expression was dropping every second. Donna knew that fire dancing in his eyes and was almost afraid for the soldiers. When the Timelord spoke, it was with venom in the back of his throat, ready to poison them if he so chose. "And what does that mean: settle your differences?"

The woman's voice turned just as sure as the Doctor's. "We don't hurt anyone. Not permanently, at least. But when there are tensions between the humans and the Helspoonians...we let off some steam out here."

Before the Doctor could respond, the younger man cut in. "It's just a game, really. King of the Hill, we call it, after the traditional Earth game. We don't make anyone fight who doesn't want to and we heal anyone who gets hurt before we go back into the city."

The Doctor looked from one young adult to the other, his eyebrows low and skeptical. Donna stepped forward, nodding pointedly at the hole in the ground the explosion had gone off in. "Do you always use bombs in your little game?"

The younger woman shifted her weight from foot to foot before answering. "The game's been getting a bit more intense lately. Both sides have some new tech. But it's still just a game. It's no big deal. Everyone here is 25 and under, holds no official position, and everyone is sworn to secrecy. None of the people in charge know about it."

The Doctor started down the hill towards the city. "You don't think they can see you out here? They're advanced enough to have flying cars, I think they can see a bunch of kids running around two meters outside the city limits."

The boy straightened up at this, smirking almost proudly. "That's the genius of it, though. We set up a perception filter around the whole field."

The Doctor cocked his head. "Perception field isn't invisibility."

The boy's smile faded as the Doctor sniffed, putting his hands back into his pockets. "This isn't going to last long. Sorry; don't mean to be a spoil sport, but-"

"Oi! You've got adults over here?"

The Helspoonian who had cast the accusation was a boy about the same age as the young woman. He was wearing a similar uniform, but instead of a red patch on his helmet, his was instead blue. Beneath his goggles, his skin was a vivid blue, and his eyes were a beautiful icy color. In his hands was a gun that the Doctor hoped was only filled with paintballs.

The red teamed boy shook his head at the Helspoonian. "Of course not; these two just showed up. Walked right into our camp. You know how it is."

The Helspoonian seemed unsatisfied with this answer, turning his weapon slightly upwards to aim generally at Donna. The Doctor grabbed the tip of it with his finger and pushed it towards the ground. The Helspoonian eyed him curiously for a second, then shook it off. "You know the rules. These two are coming with me."

The Helspoonian brought his gun up to Donna again, an action the redhead did not take kindly to. "Oi! Don't point that thing at me, mister."

"Mister Avey."

The red team girl grunted. "Do you see how annoying they are? She wasn't asking your name, Avey."

Avey turned on the girl, and the Doctor pulled Donna towards himself. "She probably likes me more than you, Cindy. She probably doesn't even know your name."

The boy beside Cindy laughed heartily, turning Avey's fury over to him. Before anyone could see it happen, the young Helspoonian had fired a spray of yellow paintballs at both Cindy and her teammate and was making a dash for the red flags mounted on the hill top. The Doctor and Donna watched in shock as Avey made a great dash back toward his own hill, zig-zagging so as to avoid the hundreds of paintballs that rained down on him from every angle.

Cindy sat up quickly and threw off her helmet. "That...blue menace!"

Her friend sat up slowly, groaning. "Ow. One of those really hurt my arm. It'll be hard hiding that bruise tonight."

Against his better judgement, the Doctor went over to the young man. He was shoved away instantly. "You got us into this mess! If I hadn't lowered my guard to explain why you were here, that blue creature wouldn't have stolen our flag!"

Donna came to stand over the boy. "You call him a creature just because he's different from you?"

Cindy chuckled. "We call him a creature because he acts like one. Didn't you see the way he took a cheap shot at us? Helspoonians aren't civilized. It's why this whole city was a bad idea. Humans shouldn't have to interact with them."

Donna started towards the girl, hair seeming to actually burn. "Do you hear yourself?"

The Doctor didn't even try to hold back his friend. Instead, he came to her side. "This ends today. You're all bullying and separating and judging each other. These are the things that lead to war."

The boy got to his feet. "You haven't been here twenty minutes and you're telling us how it is?"

"I've seen this happen enough to know the signs."

Cindy laughed, incredulous. "It's just a game! It's a friendly competition and some smack talk. Traditional Earthlings did it all the time!"

The Doctor leaned in close, watching the kids with unblinking eyes. "And do you know how many wars they had? Do you know how much blood was spilt? How many people killed? How many lives were destroyed because that smack talk and friendly competition got out of hand?"

The boy looked away from the Doctor, rubbing his arm unconsciously. "It's not that big of a deal."

The Doctor put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Yes. Yes, it is. Because this is where it starts. It doesn't start with the big man in the high castle. It doesn't start with laws and treaties and soldiers. It starts with kids, making fun of each other. Ordinary people putting each other in boxes and labelling them."

The Doctor stepped away for a second, taking a deep breath. Donna looked from him to the kids and approached them slowly and carefully. "Hey, look at me."

The two dejected young adults eyed her with both curiosity and skepticism, but her voice remained calm and kind. "You're setting up your future right now, you know that? It's not your mum or your dad. It's not anyone else. It's you. So what do you want that future to look like, eh? Do you want to make Avey feel bad? Do you want people insulting each other in sport?"

The boy kicked the grass as Cindy answered softly, "No."

Donna smiled at them both, and then joined the Doctor on the other side of the hill. He was looking over the fields with wide eyes. She knew his mind wasn't on these specific hills, or these specific kids. It was on Earth. Gallifrey. Anywhere war had been. Anywhere he'd seen the horrors it caused. She rubbed his upper arm warmly. "You alright, Spaceman I think these kids'll work it out. They're good people somewhere deep down, I think."

"They always are."

He stared at the horizon for a moment. After a deep breath, he continued.

"That's the worst part, I think. Ninety nine percent of any civilization that's ever existed has been good people. Very few are ever actually evil. But for some reason, millions upon millions get sucked into the warfare and the fighting and the offensive. They become monsters and let it consume them. Nobody starts out hating anyone, especially not for so trivial a reason as skin color or species or religion or any other reason people start wars. But society makes them that way."

Donna took his hand in hers. "It's not your job to solve all the universe's problems or stop every war from happening. No one could do that."

"But what if I could? What if I could figure out what happens to society to make it so divisive? What if I could stop every stereotype and hurtful comment from taking hold?"

Donna chuckled slightly. "Good luck with that. I think humans, at least, are too complicated to find an easy solution for, though."

"You're probably right."

Cindy cleared her throat softly behind them. "Ugh, we...we took your advice. We called off the game. It's gotten out of hand."

She and her teammate went off down the hill, followed by many other young people. When they were out of earshot, Donna stated, "It actually looked like it was painful for her to admit you were right."

The Doctor grinned. "It's improvement, at least. I think that's all we can hope for. A little bit of pausing and thinking goes a long way."

Donna turned to her Timelord companion with a smile. "Back to the TARDIS? I've got mud all over my blouse. I don't know how these kids keep this from their parents with the dirt they must've tracked through the house."

"Ah, Helspoonians have showers at the entrance of all buildings. Washes and dries everything in seconds."

Donna's jaw dropped. "You're joking me!"

The Doctor laughed. "Of course I am. This is the 24th century, not the age of miracles. Nah, those kids probably just tell mum they were playing football or something, that works every time."

"Did you have football on Gallifrey?"

The Doctor tugged at his earlobe. "Well, we had something like it. Doesn't have a word in your language, but it's basically the same rules only everyone wears a big hat and nobody has shoes on."

"Injuries were fairly common, then?"

"We went through our fair share of regenerations while we played."

Donna furrowed her eyebrows. "Joking again?"

"Of course."


	10. Stalked

**This one's just a little bit scarier than most, but I think you guys can handle it. Nothing to bad, just a bit of random Halloween-esque fun.**

 **Features 12 and Clara.**

10: Stalked

The Doctor took a step forward, his ears perking and his teeth gritting as a leaf, glowing white in the moonlight, crunched beneath his boot. Slowly, he shifted his weight, cringing at the further crunching noises beneath him as he walked. Why had they come to the planet of Autumnus again?

"What's your favorite season?"

He had been bouncing around the TARDIS control panel as he made this inquiry to Clara. Earlier that week, he had accidentally gotten them locked in a jail cell overnight...just after they had tried to outrun both an alligator-like alien species and telepathic turtles. He felt he owed her one.

"I've always liked Autumn. The leaves changing; Halloween; black cats."

"I know just the place."

Oh, if he'd known then the mistake he was making in pulling that lever. Then again, maybe he was just being again. Clara said that kept happening.

They weren't too bad off, really. Sure, there were the shadows chasing them, not unlike the Vashta Nerada he'd hoped he'd never see again. And the tingling feeling of being watched everywhere he went. And the fact that he hadn't heard Clara's footprints for a few minutes.

The Doctor froze. "How could I be so stupid?"

He whispered under his breath, to avoid anyone hearing him. That is, if there were someone out here besides him and Clara. He couldn't be sure of that or anything else right now.

"Clara?"

He glanced around him, keeping one foot planted facing forward as he pivoted, marking his path. But as he looked around and saw nothing but blue-tinted shrubs and a few creepy fluorescent streetlights, he lost his nerve and paced around the edges of the street. "Clara?"

His eyes strained through the night, assisted only by the moon and a few stars, galaxies away. As fear set in, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He closed his eyes tightly and found himself reciting the words he'd said to Rupert.

"Don't look round. Scared is a superpower. Don't look round."

He took a step forward, and heard something behind him trace this movement. He shuddered, taking in a deep breath, then stepped forward again. The thing behind him took two steps forward. The Doctor forced himself forward again, stepping out of the light of the nearest streetlamp. Part of him wondered when the thing would pounce; if he'd see it coming or if it would take him in an instant. Shakily, he made his way still forward. The thing kept apace with him, staying an equal distance from him no matter how fast or slow his wobbly legs carried him.

It had been five minutes of this walk of terror when the Doctor seriously began to ponder his situation. Perhaps this thing was leading him to its lair or homestead. Maybe he'd be dinner for a whole family. Or maybe it was trying to scare him; bring him deeper and deeper into the forest until he knew he was beyond rescuing. But why?

Another leaf crunched behind him, and he was about to spin around and face whatever or whoever was following him, but an odd sound reached his ears. Was that…music?

A faint drumbeat, growing ever louder as he walked, brought a smile to his face. Then his expression dropped, as he recalled hundreds of sacrificial songs from various planets; songs that were omens of death. He forced himself to keep moving toward it, regardless. Better to ace the threat head on than be hit from behind.

The drumbeat slowly combined with a saxophone and then some kind of electronic blend of notes. The Doctor felt his head rush with relief and embarrassment. He stopped at the edge of a large green garden, filled to the brim with candy, dancers, and pumpkin-shaped lanterns. The 'thing' behind him went ahead of him, calling out as he went.

"Yo, Deke!"

The 'thing' that had made the Doctor, Lord of Time and enemy of the Daleks, afraid was...a teenager. A teenager who wasn't even dressed for Halloween.

A hand suddenly grabbed onto the Doctor's arm and he nearly shouted, stopping his voice at the last second. The dramatic jerky motion he made, though, made it look like he had jumped five feet in the air. Clara smiled at him confusedly.

"It's just me. What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost?"

The Doctor tried to form words, but his mind was still catching up to the teen party and it not being a sacrificial ceremony marking his doom. "You...I…"

His mouth was still agape when Clara squeezed his arm tighter and led him toward the snack table. "Let's get some punch in you. The kids here are actually really nice. They promised to help us get back to the TARDIS later."

"That's my job."

The Doctor smiled, his fears finally dimming and his spirits lifting. When Clara handed him a small cup of red punch, he didn't even hesitate before downing a big gulp. A second later, he was grimacing. "Oktoberfest all year; that's Autumnus for you."

Clara chuckled, and the Doctor made sure to drink his next few sips more carefully. After they'd both finished most of their drinks and were watching the partygoers with tired eyes, the Doctor contemplated, "I still don't know how you got here so fast. You were behind me until just before I lost you; I know it. How'd you get ahead?"

Clara eyed him curiously. "Doctor, I've been here for over an hour. You were still working out how to use the compass. You got all Scottish, and I got frustrated because we were going to be late so I got a ride with Zach. Don't you remember?"

The Doctor's eyebrows lowered. "But after that you came back and you were walking behind me. We heard something in the woods, so we started walking really slowly, and then you were still following me for a bit, and then you disappeared."

Clara shook her head. "Are you trying to frighten me? That didn't happen."

The hair on the back of the Doctor's neck rose again. "So I was being stalked."

They looked into each other's eyes for a moment before the Doctor tore away suddenly, making Clara gasp. She joined him in the middle of the party, where he was awkwardly trying to look natural in the midst of all the teens. He fist-pumped to the beat a few times and then step-touched, clapping along to the music. Clara shook her head, smiling despite herself. "Doctor, what are you doing?"

"Best cure for a fearful night," the Doctor reached out his hand, and Clara took it, "dance like nobody's watching."

He pulled her in closer and Clara leant her head against his chest, smiling away the fear.


	11. Reality

**Thank you all for being so patient. The past few weeks have been incredibly busy and there's been a lot happenint, so I apologize for this chapter coming so late. Also, thank you to DrLevoda for the prompt! Everyone else is welcome to give me prompts as well. Anyway, please enjoy!**

11: Reality

"Clara, how do you delete a picture online?"

The Doctor, carrying some kind of alien version of a tablet, rushed out of the newly landed TARDIS and into Clara's tiny lounge, stumbling over the coffee table he did so. He nearly grumbled a few choice words at the inanimate object, but when Clara's head turned sharply towards him, eyes wide and leaky, his hearts sank. Something was wrong. Clara was hurting. The Doctor's owlish gaze peered back at her for a moment, questioning her tear-stained cheeks, before the voice from the newscaster on the telly set in.

Another alleged terror attack…another corrupt government...yet more injustice...more pain...more suffering.

The Doctor shut the TARDIS door silently behind him and went to the sofa, sitting on the arm, staring at the telly with a grim look. Clara sniffed and wiped at her face. "I don't usually watch the news anymore. It's never anything good. It's …"

"Reality."

The Doctor was still stony-faced, watching the violent newsclips, fiddling with the alien tech in his hands incessantly. Clara watched him for a moment before setting her own hand on top of his shaky fingers. They met eyes for a second before the Doctor took her hand, letting the device drop to the floor. Clara smiled thankfully at him and suddenly flipped off the telly.

"Can we go somewhere?"

It took the Doctor a moment to catch up, still lost in the horrors he had just witnessed through the screen. "Of course. What kind of somewhere?"

"I...I don't know. Let's just fly."

The Doctor led her gently by the hand into the old time machine, letting go of her fingers as he went to the opposite side of the Console, making himself busy with the controls. Clara simply stayed by the door, hugging herself as she looked up at the ceiling.

She hadn't realized it, or at least, she hadn't thought about it in a while, but the TARDIS really had become a second home to her. The lights dimmed and the ship purred as she entered, like a friendly housecat. She knew every nook and cranny of the Console Room, albeit not the whole ship. She knew where the brake was, and could guess at what some of the Gallifreyan symbols meant. She was used to the ever-changing color scheme, blue when the TARDIS was on edge, yellow when she was more relaxed. She could locate the medical kits and fire extinguishers in mere seconds, owing to all of the accidents and emergencies the Doctor and her had gotten themselves into. A few of them she could even laugh about.

Her eyes drifted down to the man fiddling with numerous buttons and levers on the Console, a partner in a symbiotic dance. He and the TARDIS were mentally linked, and it showed whenever he was showing off his flying ability, turning one dial before gliding to a couple levers and pulling them down with a proud smirk.

Clara watched his coat trail behind him, red velvet tails seeming to float in the air as he spun and jumped around, never staying still for a moment. Lately, his hair had been growing faster madder than ever, curling about on his head more and more as if in correlation with how many risks its owner had been taking lately. But today, he had apparently had a haircut. He looked a bit more refined, though for the Doctor, she knew, that was never going to last long. The next adventure would surely singe a sleeve or add just a few more glints of chaos and wonder into his eyes.

Maybe it wasn't the TARDIS that had become home, Clara thought to herself. The most important bits, after all, were the ones linked with this mad man. His favorite chair; the smell of books and chalk; the desk and chair beneath the deck where the Doctor could sometimes be found tinkering with electronics, making sparks fly, or writing out complicated mathematical formulas that would make Einstein's head spin. Those were the elements of the TARDIS that Clara cherished the most. Those were the things that made the TARDIS, and travelling in general, home.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Clara snapped out of her deep thoughts, blinking confusedly at the Doctor, who stood leaning with both hands on the railings by the door where she still stood. Slowly, she responded. "It's nothing you can fix. It's not alien. We're not being invaded. It's just...humans being humans."

The Doctor bit his lip, staring off at the wall. "The worst threat to humanity there is: yourselves."

Clara suddenly felt another wave of sadness, or hopelessness, or whatever it was come over her. She cried out quietly before stifling it into her palms, held over her face and wiping at her eyes again. The Doctor made to reach for her, but made no contact. Clara quickly got herself under control.

"Sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me today. Everyone is just on edge lately. They're all saying World War three is about to go down. Everyone is scared. The world is going mad."

The Doctor stayed silent for a minute, giving Clara time to breath and think. Then, slowly, he walked past her and put his hand on the doorknob.

"I have something to show you?"

"I'm not really in the mood for adventuring right now, Doctor."

"We don't have to go anywhere. We'll just sit and talk, is that alright?"

Clara nodded and watched him pull open the doors. The space filled instantly with dazzling lights of purple, blue, and red. In the distance, galaxies collided and whirled together. Stars shone brighter than Clara had ever seen. Silent asteroids glided through the vacuum of space, following gravitational patterns too enormous and complicated to understand.

The Doctor dashed back into the ship, going through one of the TARDIS' intricate corridors for something. The human stayed, kneeling to the floor as her eyes watched the scene before her, mesmerized but still deeply disturbed.

Suddenly, a teacup was hovering in front of Clara's face, held by the bony, pale hand of the Doctor. She took his offering with a small smile as he sat beside her, letting his legs dangle out the doorway.

The tea tasted amazing, and warmed her throat and stomach, but Clara's chest still ached, head still pounding with a million thoughts and worries. The Doctor noticed this, watching her as he sipped his own tea. When he turned to look out at the spectacle before them again, Clara spoke.

"It's beautiful, but I still can't get my mind off of everything. It's all too big. It's like a weight, pushing everyone down, and there's nobody to lift it. You...you think there's someone out there, not you, I mean, but someone or some group or something that can stop bad things from happening. That can prevent chaos and corruption and all that. But then...then you find out you're on your own. There's no one else."

Clara and the Doctor met eyes. "Do you know what I mean?"

The Doctor smiled sadly, blinking slowly. "Of course. It's exactly how I felt the day...I know we changed the past, but I still remember pushing the button. I remember, before that day, thinking that there must be someone out there, looking out for us. The universe...something had to be writing the future. And we were Timelords! We were supposed to know everything; see everything. But no one saw that coming. No one saw the Time War. No one saw Gallifrey falling. Nothing made sense after that. The world seemed chaotic and cruel; too big and too vast to comprehend. Nobody knew what would happen or what could happen. Not unlike your time."

Clara looked at her tea, swirling in slow circles in its cup. She hadn't even thought about him; about all the things he had lived through...But what he said made her feel even worse. She set her teacup down on the floor, as it was shaking too much in her fingers. The galaxies colliding in front of her eyes scared her now. The universe really was too big to understand.

"Hold onto something."

"What?"

Clara nearly toppled over before grabbing onto both the Doctor's sleeve and the TARDIS' door frame as she ship veered off away from the galaxies and stars. She closed her eyes as they flew quickly through space, individual stars' lights turning into bright, constant lines; space folding and whirling. She thought she would be sick. But then, finally, they landed.

In front of them, now, was a shopping centre. They were on a balcony, looking down into the food court, where numerous chairs and tables, all filled with various groups of people, sat circling an enormous fountain.

It was loud here; much louder than the silent vacuum of space. Children laughing and babbled; teenagers joked; adults in suits conversed about the business of the day. Clara watched a man lift a young boy up onto the edge of the fountain, smiling as the young one tossed in a coin. Next, her eye caught a few teenagers, all dressed in black with grunge makeup and punk hair, all run to assist an old woman who had stumbled on a step.

Clara was smiling inadvertently as she watched the scenes play out before her. It was all so lively; so human. There was so much care and hope and love in that room. A simple food court, and it seemed more amazing and more beautiful than galaxies colliding and stars bursting with energy.

The Doctor beside her shifted so that his hands could hold onto the bottom of the doorframe.

"I took Gallifrey's fate into my own hands. I thought I was the only one who cared; the only one brave enough to do anything about the chaos and the bloodshed. I was young...foolish. I thought I had to do everything on my own."

He looked at her with earnestness and wonder. "You lot remind me so much of them. Not just because of how you look, obviously. You're all so sure the world will end soon. You count down the minutes til doomsday. You watch the news and think you lose all hope. But you still hold the door for people. You still help each other cross the street, or carry in the shopping. Hope exists as long as any one of you can still be kind; can still show compassion and care."

The Doctor got to his feet suddenly, and then held out a hand for Clara, which she took with a smile and wide, shining eyes.

"Go home; rest up; turn off the telly for a while. Play some records; read a book; whatever it is you do nowadays. And then get back to reality when you're ready. Survival in times like these is a marathon. You'll never make it if you wear yourself out in the first lap."

Clara nodded at him. "Thank you, Doctor."

He returned her thanks with a smirk, and pushed the coordinates for Clara's flat into the Console. As the ship landed, Clara went to open the door, but froze and turned around.

"Doctor?"

"Yeah?"

He was still beside the Console, hands fiddling with the controls.

"Do we make it through? Humanity, I mean. Is there going to be another World War? Are we going to survive?"

The Doctor cocked his head to the side. "That depends."

"What does it depend on?"

"Right now, tims is in flux. Decisions are being made right now across the Earth that will decide humanity's future. Your survival depends on everyday people being extraordinary. The courage and the solidarity of the masses is the most important asset you have. You just have to find it and use it."

They shared one last understanding look before Clara exited the TARDIS and found herself back beside her sofa, picking up the alien tablet the Doctor had left earlier. She rolled her eyes and called out his name, but the TARDIS was already fading out of sight. Shaking her head, Clara dropped bonelessly onto the sofa and held up the tablet, eyeing it curiously. Somehow she located the power switch and turned it on, instantly losing herself in a toothy grin.

A picture on the page she was on, taken near the Tower of London judging by the background, showed a young girl posed in front of the Doctor, presumably taking a selfie. His face, though, showed that he knew nothing of what was going on and, instead, looked rather frightened. His eyes were wide, frown set. Clara couldn't help herself from sinking into the sofa and chuckling. After all, the Doctor had said she needed to take a break from reality for a little while. This certainly was a surreal enough experience for her.


	12. University

12: Univerity

Bill smelled like chips. That wasn't an inherently bad thing; she used to love the smell of chips, especially at this university. It was another tiny reason why she had always wanted to come here (besides the education and campus and intellectual conversations, of course). They were good chips, really. But working behind the counter for as long as she had, she was over the smell of chips. She would've gladly welcomed chocolate, or apple, or green beans for all she cared at this point. But it was always chips.

She turned down another hallway and passed a few students joking about how poorly they did on their last exam. A frown jerked at her lip downward. If only they knew how much she wanted to be one of them; to be a student here. She would never do poorly on an exam. She would break the spacetime continuum and study for 25 hours a day if she had to.

She put her hands in her back pockets, looking up to see where her wanderings had led her today. To her left was one of the lecture halls. She could just make out the voice of that legendary professor everyone was always talking about. They called him 'The Doctor', as if he were the only one with a P.H.D at this university. It was well-deserved, though. He seemed to know everything about everything. Today the topic seemed to be...it was hard to tell, actually. It was something between physics and poetry.

Before Bill realized, her feet had taken her closer to the door of the lecture hall. Just as she turned to get back on her path, though, her shoulder crashed into someone coming into the hall.

"Sorry!"

Bill apologized profusely as the girl she'd bumped into righted herself. She was hugging her books close to her chest, her jacket sleeves covering part of her hands, they were so long. Though her head was bent down, she turned her eyes up to meet Bill's as she smiled softly.

"It's fine."

The girl disappeared through the door quickly, but something about her had frozen Bill to the spot. The girl's face was perfectly symmetrical, except for one strange yet entrancing feature. Her left eye appeared to be shining, as if it were made of something gold.

Bill watched the girl go further into the hall and ultimately take a seat in the center. She took out a notebook and pen, twirling it in her fingers as she looked through her phone.

"You goin' in?"

Bill looked up suddenly to find a few boys waiting for her to move out of the doorway. Without thinking, Bill hurried into the lecture hall, not knowing what she was doing until after she'd found a seat across the hall from the girl she'd seen in the hallway. Silently, she called herself an idiot, but made no attempt to leave.

The professor at the front of the room, the mysterious 'Doctor' had paused in his lecture as the newcomers took a seat, glancing over his class roster with a furrowed brow. He soon shook his head and went back to the board, which read 'PHYSICS' in messy chalk letters.

"Where were we? Physics. Physics, physics, physics. What is physics?"

He put his hands in his pockets, then sauntered across the stage.

"'I'm here to share a secret; I am not who I've always been, The world that lies outstretched before me, Is not the only one I've seen, I've travelled on the tails of comets, I've burned up in the hearts of stars, I've been spat out of supernovas, That left me scattered near and far, I have dined in distant galaxies, And taught the birds to sing, I've danced for a whole lifetime, Upon Saturn's dusty rings, I've been here for long enough, To learn what makes the willow weep, I've sung celestial lullabies, That sent the moon to sleep, I've been both the flowing water, And the stone that blocks its way, I've been frozen, I've been molten, And I'll be again someday, Though I've been a billion things, This is the first one that can smile, I'm pieces of the universe, Living as human for a while.' Anyone know who wrote that?"

The boy beside Bill rose his hand and answered, "Erin Hanson."

The Doctor nodded. "And what is it about?"

At this, the boy faltered. "I...dunno. Someone who's immortal? Or a shapeshifter kind of thing?"

The Doctor shook his head and tapped the chalk a few times on the board, over the word 'PHYSICS'.

"It's about physics. And physics is about life. Energy. Chemicals. Objects. The pen Erin Hanson used to write this poem. It's all physics. And it's all connected."

He suddenly erased the board and started scribbling a series of complex, headache-inducing equations. As he wrote, furiously and madly, Bill glanced at the girl she'd run into earlier. She had her head resting on her hand, foot tapping against the floor restlessly.

The Doctor continued his lecture as he scribbled a few more equations. "Einstein's Theory of Relativity. Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle. They're all great for what they do and the area they tell us about, but what about Erin Hanson's poem?"

He stopped writing abruptly and turned to the class. They merely blinked dazedly at him. "Equations are amazing. They're useful, no doubt about that. But they never tell us enough, do they? They don't tell us how amazing it is that the particles in comets and supernovas come to live in the waters, and the stones that block their way. Equations can't explain the wonder and the chaos that must come together to create each of you. You are celestial and cosmic; you have danced upon Saturn's dusty rings. You are all pieces of the universe, living as a human for a while. That is what physics is. Never let the equations and the maths get in the way of that."

Bill and, she noticed, everyone else in the hall was mesmerized, all watching the Doctor with faint smiles. Suddenly, though, he flew back to the board and started writing again. He divided this from one equation, added onto another, until they didn't resemble what they had only been a moment before. The class watched with growing confusion. When he finished, he had only one equation written on the board.

"Anybody know how I got here?"

The formula looked nothing like Bill had ever seen. It had symbols she didn't know existed; letters that had never stood for anything else in her previous physics classes in school.

The class around her glanced from the board to their notebooks, and back to the board repeatedly. Their eyebrows furrowed, teeth biting lips. The boy beside her wiped his face in his hands and erased a row of his writing. Across the room, the girl from earlier was shaking her head, frowning sharply.

Bill leaned forward, eyes darting across the board. A soft smile curled her lips.


	13. Immortality

13: Immortality

Bill had never desired to see her bed more. Her arms ached, her legs felt like noodles, and the only thing keeping her eyes open and her feet gliding ceaselessly across the dirt field below her was adrenaline and the sight of the TARDIS, blue as can be, slowly growing in front of her. The Doctor was running just a step ahead of her, in his peculiar way. As a bright green flash whizzed just behind him between them, narrowly missing the tails of his coat, Bill found some renewed energy.

They'd been running on this barren planet for what felt like an hour now. She couldn't even remember who they were running from at this point. A battle had broken out before the Doctor had planned and suddenly they had found themselves in this field surrounded on all sides by soldiers. From the left came blue sparks, from the right green laser lines. All the Doctor had said was that she better avoid getting hit by either. This was one statement she didn't dare question her tutor on.

The Doctor glanced to his left, then to the TARDIS, then did a double take. Bill noticed his expression drop as he slowed and moved to her left side, giving up his lead and running just beside her. "They're getting closer," she heard him grunt in between breaths. "Just keep running."

Bill pushed onward, feeling her lungs about to burst. Out of the corner of her eye, the Doctor was shifting his gaze to the left every other step. Just as Bill went to grab her TARDIS key from around her neck, the Doctor suddenly called out her name and practically screamed, "Duck!"

Before she knew what was happening, Bill was dropping onto the ground, rolling toward the TARDIS in a heap. The Doctor soon followed, crashing into her just as she tried to right herself. Finally, she untangled herself from him and found her feet, pulling out the TARDIS key. The Doctor gave her a bashful grin from the ground below her.

"Did you push me?"

"Sorry about that. Didn't want you getting hit."

Bill unlocked the TARDIS as she shook her head. "Nah, it's fine, just wasn't sure what happened is all."

She pushed open the blue door, watching the battlefield with a sharp grimace one last time before cocking her head towards the ship. "Better hurry in, then."

The Doctor went to stand, but his left leg suddenly buckled beneath him, forcing him to cry out, more in shock than pain. Bill grabbed him before he could fall forward onto the ground, holding his chest with one hand while reaching the other arm around his back to stabilize him. Her face was lined with worry. "You're hurt."

"It's fine," the Doctor brushed it off, but allowed his companion to take half of his weight with a grateful smile as he limped into the TARDIS. "Nothing too bad, I don't think."

Bill helped the Doctor to one of the never used flight chairs before dashing back to shut and lock the TARDIS doors. By the time she was back by his side, he had rolled up the torn leg of his trousers enough to reveal thin blue lines tracing a miniature circuit board on his shin. Bill eyed him curiously. "Are you okay?"

The Doctor nodded, whipping out his Sonic Screwdriver. He whirred it over himself and read the data with a skeptical eye before answering. "Nothing major. Electro-pulse weapon; should've known by the blue sparks. I'll be fine in an hour or two."

Bill sighed in relief and leaned against the console. Awkward silence took over the room as she tapped her fingers restlessly on the metal panels, eyes looking everywhere except her tutor. Silently, she kicked an invisible dust bunny with her sneaker. "Why did you save me?"

She finally looked at the Doctor, who was still examining his leg. "You could've gotten really hurt, or worse."

"Well, yeah, but so could you."

"I'm less breakable than you."

"How?"

He looked up suddenly, eyeing the console. "Can you pass me the medkit and the blue bottle? They're under the console by your leg."

Bill noted the change of topic but spun around and followed his instructions anyway, dropping the kit onto the empty control deck beside him and handing him the bottle of strangely blue ointment. Cautiously, he opened the bottle and dipped a couple fingers inside. With gritted teeth, he slowly moved his fingers toward his leg.

"Don't know if this is gonna hurt or not."

Sucking in a breath, he touched the ointment to his wound. Instantly, he shut his eyes tightly, biting down his gritted teeth harder. "That answers that."

He repeated the action again, taking some of the healing ointment onto his fingers, but this time Bill latched onto his clean hand with her own. The Doctor turned to her sharply, an odd, unreadable expression on his face. She shrugged. "You risked your life for me. It's the least I can do, honestly."

The Doctor blinked dazedly for a moment, muttering, "Probably not my life. Might have risked a regeneration, though."

Bill's mouth fell open. "Wait, what?"

But the Doctor had put more of the ointment on his leg and started grasping her hand more tightly, grimacing with his eyes closed again. At least, Bill thought, the strange electro-pulse thing seemed to be fading a bit as she watched vivid blue lines turn more and more transparent.

Just as the Doctor's grip on her hand started to hurt, he let out a breath and loosened his hold on her. She wiped her sweaty palm on her jeans as he dug into the medkit, pulling out a roll of gauze. With both his messy and clean fingers, he wrapped the bandage around his calf, neatly tying it off. Bill wondered if maybe he really was a proper doctor. She'd never asked.

When all was finished and the gauze and bottle were both put away, the Doctor looked himself over, holding his gooey fingers awkwardly above his clean trousers. Bill fished a few crumpled napkins out of her pocket and held them out for him. "Souvenir from the chip station."

But as the Doctor reached for the napkins, Bill pulled them up back toward herself. "If I hand you these, will you explain what you meant before?"

"About what?"

"Ughh, 'I'm less breakable than you'?

"Ah."

She handed him the napkins and as he wiped down his fingers, he thought of the right words to use. She beat him to it. "Regeneration. Is that like with starfish? Or worms?"

The Doctor grinned as he sat up, putting the foot beneath his injured left gingerly back on the ground. "It's a bit more complicated than that. When I get hurt or sick and can't survive, every cell in my body is able to regenerate. I become, well, a different person, really."

Bill took this all in, the beginnings of a smile twitching her upper lip. "So that's how you've survived this long."

The Doctor eyed her curiously. She clicked her tongue. "Come on, you practically live in a life or death situation."

"Occupational hazard."

"Thought you said you were just passing through?"

"Well, then, it's my job to just pass through."

Bill watched him for a moment as he tested putting pressure on his wounded leg. The grimace on his face afterward told Bill he wasn't going anywhere soon.

"So you've been different people before? What's that like?"

The Doctor grinned at his student. "Always asking the questions no one ever does...It's strange. You wake up and you interact with the world differently. People treat you differently. Sometimes you treat people differently."

Bill bit her lip before she asked her next question. When she worked up the courage to voice it, she hardly spoke above a murmur. "What's it like to have lived so long? I mean, you're practically immortal right?"

A light in his eyes faded, and his face tilted toward the floor. "Immortality is a funny thing. A funny, funny thing...I've met other immortals. My fault they were immortal. I was younger; less experienced. I condemned them."

Bill felt an ache in her chest as she looked at the sad expression on the Doctor's face. She almost regretted asking. But then he did something very strange, even for the Doctor. He smiled-a sad but happy smile-and looked up at her.

"But that's why I travel with humans. Brilliant, ordinary humans. You lot never have enough time. You run from day to day and hardly ever stop because you know you can't. You help me have perspective. You help me see the wonder in the universe even when I'm too old or cynical to see it. Sometimes when you have too much of something, you don't appreciate the beauty of having just a little bit of it."

Bill had tears trying to escape, but she shook her head and smiled instead. "Do you want me to get you anything? Unless your leg's healed."

The Doctor slowly put his weight on his left leg and took a tentative step forward. "I think I'm okay. Might have some aftershocks for another half hour, but the worst of it's over."

He gave Bill a lopsided grin. "Like it never happened."

But Bill knew she wasn't soon going to forget this. Not him saving her nor their conversation afterward. She had known from the very beginning that travelling with him was the most amazing thing she'd ever done. But now she knew that that care and enthusiasm went both ways. That simple fact would keep her smiling for a long time.


	14. Sauna

**Hey everyone! I meant to finish this sooner, but I made it extra long to make up for its lateness. Hope you enjoy! Reviews are always appreciated.**

14: Sauna

A Bill and 12 story (pre 10.5 Oxygen)

"I've been in a situation like this before."

"We're stuck on a spaceship heading straight towards a sun!"

"It happens."

Bill turned from the window with one of the looks the Doctor had grown almost afraid of; usually she followed that look up with a smack on his arm, or his head when he was being especially frustrating.

To his relief, she looked back out the window and leaned on its frame, sweat rolling in beads down her forehead. Her denim jacket was tied around her waist, jeans rolled up to her knees, but still she could hardly catch her breath with how hot it was getting. Even her hair seemed to be feeling the heat, a few curls loosened and hanging limply beside her face from the alien rubber band she'd fastened into a makeshift hair tie.

"The crew isn't even here."

"Maybe they just skipped out for lunch."

Suddenly, a mechanical voice from the ship's inner workings stated matter-of-factly, "Impact in thirty minutes."

From the floor where he was sat against the deadlocked door, the Doctor joked "Thirty minutes is loads of time."

Bill's expression shut him up again.

The Doctor leaned his head back against the metal door, glad that at least it still retained some of its coolness. He worked off his sticky, heavy jacket and threw it carelessly onto the floor of the ship. Even that small exertion forced him to close his eyes for a second and try to regain some strength.

Bill came and sat beside him, keeping a good distance so they wouldn't accidentally share body heat. The sun streaming in from the opposite wall of windows made both of their faces glow in its light, as if taunting them. The Doctor's eyes were still closed, but his student knew that he was thinking instead of resting. She couldn't help interrupting him anyway. "It's like a sauna in here."

Bill leaned her arms on her knees and folded into herself, brushing some of the sweat off her brow with her arm before dropping her head onto her knees. The Doctor shifted over to the perpendicular wall and gestured to the place he had just been sitting. "The door's still cool."

Bill slowly lifted her head and tested the temperature of the door with the back of her hand. Her eyebrows furrowed. "Doctor...how is that possible?"

The Doctor shrugged, lost in a different thought. He replied half-wittingly, "It's probably the kind of metal it is. Maybe it retains its temperature better, like a thermos."

Bill felt around the door, always coming back to the same area a half a meter or so off the ground. "It's only this one spot that's cool. The rest of the door is just as hot as the wall."

The Doctor looked at her curiously and examined the door himself, finding new energy. "You're right. But how…"

A hissing sound emitted from the other side of the door and the Doctor jerked his hand and face away just before a large circle of metal was shot clear across the room, crashing into the opposite wall with such force that the Doctor and Bill felt the reverberations run through their arms and legs. On the opposite side of the door, a man in a spacesuit peaked his head down by the new hole.

"Wash, there really are people in there!"

A voice chimed in from behind the driller. "Well get them out, then. Sealy, get the bigger drill."

Bill and the Doctor got to their feet as a third crewmember, the man called Sealy, muttered, "What difference will it make?"

Wash reacted with a barking direction to follow her orders, and something about leaving no one behind. Bill and the Doctor heard Sealy's footsteps track down the corridor as he hurried off.

The driller bent down to the hole in the door again, worry etched across his face. "Are you two alright?"

Bill chuckled. "Just a bit sweaty, I think."

The man reached a hand awkwardly through the hole. "My name's Brent. Well, Lieutenant Walker here, I suppose." His expression turned solemn. "I'm sorry we deadlocked the door on you. We blocked off this whole section so we could keep the air conditioning where we were. No one else was onboard."

The Doctor turned towards the window with a lopsided grin. "That's the problem with stowing away. No one ever knows you stowed away, if you do it right. You always miss out on appetizers and magic shows."

Bill looked at him curiously, but shook her head. "Anyway, we just gotta get everyone to the TARDIS, yeah? Simple enough. Right, Doctor?"

The Doctor was still staring out the window, eyes wide. "Bill."

"Yeah?"

"Look."

Bill looked out the window and her heart sank. The blue box was drifting calmly just outside, too far to get to but close enough to taunt them as the sun glowed eerily behind it. "You've got to be kidding me."

The Doctor was just about to reply when Bill pulled him roughly towards herself, away from the door. A second later, the drill let out a loud hiss and an even larger chunk of the metal door shot clear across the room, almost cracking the window.

While Wash and Walker berated Sealy and called out a series of both protocols and obscenities, the Doctor looked at Bill with a smile. "This door is pretty cross at me today, isn't it?"

Bill kept her hold on his sleeve and pulled him back with her deeper into the room. "Okay, tell me what's on your mind."

"What do you mean?"

"You only make jokes like this when you're trying to distract us, or you know something bad and you don't want to tell me yet."

The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't do that."

Bill tilted her head at him. "Yes, and you're doing it right now." She let go of his sleeve and sighed. "Just tell me."

The Doctor took a moment before answering her, eyes turning to stare blankly at the wall. "I don't know what to do."

Bill hooked her thumbs into the belt loops of her jeans. "Well, that's alright. We'll think of something. What did you do last time? You said you were in a situation like this before."

"Last time?" A cringe played at the Doctor's lips. "Last time I ended up with a sun entity inside me."

Bill's eyes widened in horror as the Doctor looked over her shoulder at the crew. "You aren't harnessing that sun's power, are you?"

Wash replied simply, "That's banned by almost every law in the galaxy."

The Doctor nodded. "Finally, someone gets it."

The voice from the ship filled the space again, it's light voice cold and vacant. "Impact in fifteen minutes. Temperatures reaching critical levels. Air conditioning shut down to retain energy reserves."

Bill fanned herself with her hand, wiping her brow with the shirt tied around her waist. "Doctor, we need a plan."

But his eyes were already lit up. As the space filled with even more heat, forcing Bill and the crew to their knees from a simple lack of energy, the Doctor seemed to gain more strength and power. "It's automatically rerouting the power. So that means there is still energy, and the ship is still working. Oh, this is easy. We've just gotta get to the engine room, turn on the carbonic resistor, and then re-calibrate the network in the main hub."

Wash, leaned on her knees, muttered, "Where were you half an hour ago when we were trying to think of something like that?"

"Well, you deadlocked me in here. No, nevermind, forget that. No time for me to be an arse. Let's go, Bill."

Bill looked up at him, breathing heavily. "I can hardly move."

The Doctor glanced at the crew, two of whom were in the same position as Bill. Sealy was lying on the floor, practically panting for breath. The Timelord knelt down beside his companion, even he wiping at his brow, breathing deeper than usual. "I know. I know. But I need someone I can trust."

Bill ignored the comments made by the crew after that statement and got to her feet. "You're scared."

"I know it's not the same situation as last time, but...if it goes similarly…I can't do it on my own."

Bill took his hand in her own. "Okay. Let's go."

They hurried past the exhausted crew and into the corridor beyond, where the air was just a fraction thinner. Bill breathed in the cooler air with thankful lungs just before the Doctor pulled her down the corridor, his long legs carrying him quickly towards the engine room.

The further down the halls they went, the more the temperature seemed to climb; the ship tilt back and forth. By the time they reached the enormous engine room, every alarm was going off and the whole ship was vibrating. The Doctor dashed up a flight of steps to the control deck, where he pulled a panel off of its hinges with his fingers. Inside was a tangle of wires and plugs.

"Bill, can you come up here?"

She followed him up the steps quickly; a bit too quickly. Suddenly lightheaded, she staggered into the control panel and leaned on it with both arms. The Doctor gave her an owlish look with wide eyes. "You okay?"

Bill waved him off. "Carbonic regulator, right? Where's that?"

The Doctor took out a plug and hooked it onto a different plug. "Well, we have to make one."

Bill's eyes widened. "What?"

The Doctor forced two wires together, generating bright white sparks that lit up his face like a mad scientist. "Do you see a hole with a blue rim?"

Bill looked over the controls, feeling almost ill. "Yeah, yeah."

The Doctor handed her one of the wires. "Put this in it."

Bill took it but gave him a skeptical look. "Is it safe?"

"As safe as anything on a ship eight minutes from a sun."

Bill shrugged and plugged in the wire. Suddenly another alarm started going off in her ear. Before she could work out what they had accomplished, the Doctor was pulling her by the hand back down the steps.

"Now comes the tricky part. We have to get to the main hub, rework the controls, and steer the ship away from the sun."

The computer's icy voice echoed through the corridor they were tiringly sprinting down. "Five minutes until impact."

Bill's legs moved just a bit faster. "And we have five minutes to do it."

Between breaths, the Doctor muttered, "Just a day in the life."

Panting and bleary-eyed, the Doctor and Bill clambered into the main hub, where he instantly went to the controls and she instantly dropped to her knees. The Doctor opened the control panel with one frustrated hit and looked at the circuits running their course within. "Bill, do you see these circuits?"

Bill forced herself to the controls. The Doctor pointed out the complicated board and she felt her head ache. "I need you to move these around so all of the ends point to the left."

Bill eyed the circuits and shook her head. "I don't know how to do that!"

The Doctor wiped his face with his hand. "It's okay. It's like a puzzle. You just have to think. It's no harder than any of the exams I've given you. You're an excellent thinker, Bill."

She got to work with a little added energy from that compliment, but her head and her chest were telling her just to have a lie down and make him take care of everything. Throwing caution to the wind, she moved around the circuits, brain firing at maximum speed.

Beside her, the Doctor was pressing nearly every switch, dialing this and cancelling that. Even more alarms sounded off, ringing through Bill's cranium. "What are you doing?"

The Doctor grabbed onto what looked like an arcade game controller with both hands. "Steering."

Bill was just placing the final board when the front window cracked under the pressure of the sun's heat, its tendrils cutting out and spider webbing across the glass. The Doctor's eyes went big, but he muttered, "Ignore it. Fear won't help."

Bill shook her head and placed the final circuit, and the ship finally stopped moving towards the sun. Her lips parted in a big smile as she let out a whoop of laughter. The Doctor grinned only for a moment. "Great job, but we're not out of the woods just-"

One small piece of the window, just between two larger cracks, suddenly fell to the floor, opening up the hub to the vacuum of space. The air filled with chaos, then, as Bill fell to an awkward sitting position and the Doctor struggled to remain upright, turning the wheel sharply to the right.

Air whizzed forward and back, whipping at both of their hair and sending loose parts and untethered objects all across the room. Bill found herself holding tightly onto a railing whispering comforting words to herself as, in front of her, the Doctor slipped suddenly onto the floor, sending the wheel spinning on its own in every direction. The ship followed suit, propelling the Doctor down a steep slope toward the back wall. Bill grabbed onto his arm and helped him up to the railing just before he was sent into free fall.

Trying to find his breath and his voice as he looked at his student in wonder, the Doctor stammered, "You're...a lifesaver today, Bill."

A moment later, someone rushed in and grabbed the wheel, ordering someone else to plug the hole in the window and yet another to make coordinates. The Doctor and Bill soon found themselves both lying on the hub floor, holding onto the bottom rail with a grip so hard it hurt. Both had sweat gleaming on their forehead and were practically gasping for breath, but both were miraculously unscathed. The Doctor closed his eyes and grinned.

"You two alright?"

Bill sat up slowly, finding Walker kneeling in front of her. "Yeah, yeah we're fine. You?"

"Fine." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Hey, ugh, we're sorry. About not going with you."

Bill shook her head. "Don't worry about it. I wouldn't gone either if I wasn't worried what this genius would get himself into."

The Doctor sat up and gave Bill a mock-offended look. "I am still your professor, Bill. You're not supposed to sass a professor."

Bill turned to him with a smile. "Do you ever do what you're supposed to do?"

The Doctor stuttered. "That's...beside the point."

Bill smiled and looked off out the window, where the TARDIS was floating just outside. "Ugh, Doctor?"

The Doctor follow her gaze. "Ah, right, now we've got time…" He turned to Wash, who was still at the controls. "Do you think you can link with my ship?"

"That box?"

"Yes."

The Doctor and Bill shared a knowing smile as Wash shook her head and redirected the ship.

* * *

"I'm fine!"

"Just drink the bloody water. You were wearing long sleeves all day. You must've been boiling."

The Doctor took the glass from Bill with the face of a five-year old forced to eat their greens. "You don't have to take care of me."

Bill was stood in front of him, hands resting on her hips. He took a sip and he could've sworn heaven lay in H2O molecules. He downed the glass full in less than ten seconds. Bill smirked, but didn't say anything.

The Doctor set the glass roughly onto the control panel and bursted into action, flipping switches and pulling levers. "So where do you want to go? Spa? Maybe a volcano? Ooh, how about Venus?"

Bill's look shut him up again, and he relented. "JK, as the kids say." Bill groaned. "How about the Northern Lights? I hear they're lovely this time of year."

Bill smiled and nodded her head. "Sounds perfect."

They set off to the North Pole, and Bill felt her body cool off just at the thought.


	15. Space

15: Space

Twelfth Doctor Post Oxygen *Spoilers through that episode

The Doctor had risked his life to save Bill without any hesitation. He hadn't even thought about it until now, as he sat alone in the TARDIS with his Sonic Sunglasses resting on his nose. Bill had gone home to sleep, thankful for some rest after their nightmare of an adventure. He'd sent away Nardole shortly after, telling him some half-truth about how dangerous the vault would be after they'd both been away for so long. Now he had time to think, so think he did.

He still couldn't see, a fact he instinctively kept from Nardole and Bill. He didn't even know why he was being so secretive; maybe he didn't want their pity. People always wanted to pity you when you just wanted some independence and maybe some alone time.

Of course, he'd pitied himself as well for a moment or two. He was scared and he had never liked the dark. But the TARDIS had quickly reminded him of his sunglasses, and she had hummed comfortingly in his ears to show her presense.

He still had all of his other senses. He still had his mind and his personality. He was still him. He could even see, in a way, with his sunglasses. They at least warned him when he was about to walk into a wall or step on Bill's toes. He could still save planets, and he could definitely steer the TARDIS.

All he needed was some time. Time to adjust. Time to think and learn. And time he had, thanks to his TARDIS. Oh, Nardole would kill him if he knew what he was about to do.

The Doctor got to his feet and went to the Console. He knew this room like the back of his hand, perhaps even better; he'd had the ship longer. So it was with much ease and a mischievous grin on his face that he took off and flew to a random point in space, giving the TARDIS a bit of freedom. Yes, Nardole would've killed him.

The ship stopped suddenly and the Doctor felt the TARDIS reach out to him telepathically. She wanted him to go to the doors for something. He complied with an inquiring mind.

His hands fumbled a bit for the door handles,

but he soon had them open. They were in space, he could sense it. Below was a planet. His Sonic specks read out various chemical levels. Oxygen. Hydrogen. Just a little bit of Nitrogen. The Doctor leaned back, letting his legs dangle out the threshold. In his mind, he could picture the swirling mass below. It was a planet he'd visited before, one with shops and the sweetest fruits in the galaxy. He smiled.

"This body always did have a sweet tooth."

Quickly, he jumped up and shut the doors, hurrying back to the Console. With a little help from the TARDIS, he landed perfectly just beside the biggest marketplace. Cautiously, he muttered a goodbye to his ship and treaded outside, reluctantly closing the doors behind him.

He would never have admitted it to anyone, but he was still a little afraid. What if he fell into trouble before he had really gotten used to navigating without sight? What if his enemies used his disability against him?

He almost gave up and went back into the TARDIS, but she had ready locked him out, urging him to go out into the world in front of him. He sighed. "Guess I'll have to trust you didn't bring me anywhere I can't handle."

He took a step forward and his glasses started beeping furiously. There were crowds of people, all moving about ceaselessly. He could feel their presence even without the glasses, their body heat radiating onto him. They were also making an incredible amount of noise, calling out prices and shouting about how rare their merchandise was.

Suddenly a smell wafted through the air; the sweet, citrusy scent of the planet's famous fruit. The Doctor finally decided he had to get going; start practicing how to take in his new world. He took a step forward and heard someone shout, "Oi!" He bit his teeth in a grimace, but a little encouraging from the TARDIS' telepathic circuits nudged him forward. He went into the fray with a little more confidence.

His glasses identified a row of tables to his left, so he followed until his outstretched hand felt a soft cloth. He stroked it with his fingertips to ground himself. He'd always been prone to overstimulation. This market probably wasn't the best place for him when he wasn't teaching himself how to walk again.

An old woman's voice rang cheerily from the other side of the table. "Yeh like bracelets? I've got 'em in all kinds of colors. Red; blue; brown; what would ya like?"

The Doctor's hand brushed around the tabletop until he found a circular band, covered in small beads. The felt like a plastic kind of wood; not altogether natural, but not completely artificial either. He smiled softly at the woman and set the bracelet down.

As he wandered through the market, he found it easier and easier to trust himself and pick up some speed. Once or twice he bumped into someone, but they were only offended until he heard them swivel to face him, then they went silent. That was the worst part, in his opinion. He couldn't stand everyone tip-toeing around him. He almost would've preferred they'd be angry.

Finally his nose caught the poignant whiff of that sweet, sweet fruit. He picked up the largest one off the table and scanned it with his sunglasses. VitaminA and C; beta carotene. It was one of his favorites, the orange one. A voice across the counter, belonging to a young boy by the reading of his glasses, said simply, "That's five credits."

Quickly, he shuffled in his pocket for his credits card. The last time he needed it, he had filled it to capacity. Apparently he could've bought a mansion, but he went with a new suit instead. He wondered how much was still on it. He handed it to the boy, who blew air out of his cheeks with a whistle.

"Blimey, you could live on this."

The boy tapped a few buttons on a keyboard and handed the card back to the Doctor. Just before the Timelord could stuff the card back into his pocket and disappear into the market, though, the boy firmed his grip. "Hey, ugh, sir; you might want to be careful with that. Folks around here aren't always the kindest. I just don't want anyone taking advantage of you or anything. You've got about a million credits on that right now.

The boy loosened his hold on the card and the Doctor slowly put it back in his pocket, taking his fruit from the counter. "Thank you."

The boy replied softly, "Enjoy your lunch, sir." The Doctor knew he was smiling without the glasses' analysis.

* * *

The Doctor sat leaned against one side of the TARDIS doorway, one leg hanging loosely out into space. He took a big bite of his fruit and moaned in enjoyment. "This really is the best fruit in the galaxy."

The TARDIS purred back at him. He simply took another bite, feeling the citrus and the cool liquid drip down his chin. It was messier than a pear, but it was worth it.

His glasses still perched on his nose, he turned out the doorway. He could feel the vibrations of the strings of the universe; sense the slow but powerful force of gravity keeping the planets below in their orbits. By the readings of his glasses, he knew that there were Dalek ships hovering in the distance, in need of some stopping.

The Doctor was not afraid anymore. He wasn't a tragedy, to be pitied or fawned over. He was still a scary handsome genius from space. He was the Doctor, he was blind, and he could save the day. No if ands or buts about it.


	16. Carnivore

**My thoughts are with everyone in Manchester and Marawi today. I hope this little story can take everyone's mind off of the news for a little while.**

16: Carnivore

Amy and Rory stepped slowly out of the TARDIS, eyes locked on the tops of the never ending trees looming above them. Bird-like creatures flew and cawed as they trailed across the sky. They would've looked just like normal Earth Hawks if it weren't for their incredibly long, neon pink tails. Amy pulled a camera she'd bought on their last trip to her home planet, now three months past, and took a picture of the green forest. Rory turned to the Doctor as he shut his TARDIS' doors, a satisfied smile twerking his lip.

"Doctor, where are we? It looks like Brazil."

The Doctor scoffed at the suggestion. "You think this is the Amazon? Come on, Rory, this is nothing like the Amazon. Just look at the leaves."

Rory could've rolled his eyes, but Amy was watching and he'd spent the past few hours explaining how he totally did enjoy his conversations with the Doctor, even when the alien was incredibly frustrating. "Where are we then?"

The Doctor grinned. "Amazonias!"

Rory did roll his eyes this time. Amy merely smiled, nudging him on the shoulder playfully. Rory instantly warmed into his companions' game and smiled himself, gazing around the expansive forest with wonder.

The Doctor was already ten paces ahead of them, whizzing his Sonic Screwdriver at a purple flower with wide, spotted petals. Rory could've sworn the plang was moving on its own, following the movements of the Doctor's Sonic. Amy bent to her knees in front of it. "Is that a flower? It almost seems...I don't know."

"Sentient."

The Doctor stuffed the Sonic into his inside pocket and clasped his hands together. "I love new planets. This flower can sense soundwaves; it's how it hears its prey. And then it uses something like echolocation to figure out a way to...attack." The Doctor took a few steps back, pulling Amy back with him by her sleeve. "Actually, we'd better get out of here. It's heard us all talking and it might be thinking of ways to eat us."

Rory's eyes widened. "Doctor!"

The Doctor led them deeper into the forest, keeping an eye on the purple flower as they went. "It's alright, Rory, don't be such a worrier. It probably can't even swallow you."

"Probably?"

Amy stopped suddenly, facing ahead. The Doctor and Rory were still watching the flowers behind them skeptically. Amy reached a hand out toward her companions. "Um, guys?"

The Doctor and Rory spun around at the same time, both faces changing drastically. For Rory, that meant going slack-jawed and wide-eyed as he latched onto Amy's hand. As for the Doctor, his lips parted in a toothy grin and he pushed forward into the clearing ahead.

At the outer edge of this clearing stood what looked like some kind of dinosaur, its back plated in sharp, rock-like formations like a turtle shell. On its face were three small horns. What kept Amy and Rory holding onto each other at the entrance of the clearing, though, was its sheer massive size. Its stocky legs were as wide as a mini-fridge; its back the size of a large car.

The Doctor approached the creature with only a slight bend in his knee, ignoring Amy's protests. "Oh, you're a beautiful thing, aren't you?"

Rory looked from the creature to the Doctor. "Doctor," he whispered, "That thing is scarier than the flower. Let's get out of here."

The Doctor straightened himself and turned back to his human companions. "He's a vegetarian, look. He's just enjoying his salad lunch. He won't mind me."

Rory and Amy looked at the creature, which, sure enough, was munching on the grass below. The Doctor turned back and started cooing at it in a baby voice, but Amy shook her head. "Are you sure about this, Doctor?"

The Doctor stepped on a twig as he turned back to them, a disgruntled look on his face. "What's gotten into you two, today?"

Rory and Amy's faces were plastered with terror, both looking at a spot just behind the Doctor's right shoulder. Slowly, he caught on, and turned back to face the alien creature. Rory's voice behind him came with a tremor. "Doctor, I don't think those are vegetarian teeth."

The creature, now approaching the Doctor with its pounding, clawed feet, had its mouth open in a snarl. Red tinged the sharp, numerous teeth set in its wide jaw. The Doctor felt light headed for a second. "I may have been very mistaken. It wasn't eating the grass, it was eating…"

Amy edged closer to the Doctor, reaching an arm out to grab him. "Doctor…"

The creature let out a loud roar, and the Doctor spun instantly. "Run!"

His companions followed without hesitation, sprinting off into the trees, adrenaline kicking into their veins. With no regard for the small branches hitting their faces, they made their way through the forest underbrush, jumping clear over any fallen branches that happened to be in their way. Behind them, the creature's ability to break through the trees with its hard shell more than made up for its short, stocky legs. It was on the Doctor's heels before he could even catch up to his friends. Amy glanced behind her and her legs faltered, slowing her a bit.

"Doctor?"

"Keep going! Back to the TARDIS!"

Rory helped his wife get back up to speed, pulling her along, until his eye caught one of the vivid purple flowers. The whole bunch of them were turned toward the trio, almost blocking the path. "Doctor?"

The Doctor fumbled for his Sonic as the carnivore nipped at his coat, just missing it by a hair. "Yes, one second Rory, I'm a bit preoccupied at the mome-"

The rest of the Doctor's sentence came in a shout as he tripped over a root and went down hard onto his stomach. Amy called out loudly above him, but he hardly heard her, his ears filled with the sound of his hearts beating almost ceaselessly. His eyes were shut tightly as he waited in anticipation. Why the creature hadn't finished him off already was a mystery. Cautiously, he opened one eye, then the other, and saw Rory approaching ever so slowly, his eyes locked on a spot just above the Doctor. When he was close enough, the human reached an arm out and finally looked down to the Doctor. "Are you okay?"

The Doctor grabbed his friend's arm and pulled himself to his feet, crouching around the creature's seemingly frozen face. Once upright, he eyed it curiously. Amy called out to both of them, and Rory pulled at his arm, but the Doctor merely whipped out his Sonic and traced it over the still creature. It's mouth was still open, hovering over the spot he'd just been on the forest floor.

"The flowers protected us. They scanned us, so they must've seen that we weren't going to hurt them. Interesting."

Rory grabbed the Doctor's arm forcefully now, pulling him along toward the TARDIS. "Can we think about why we weren't killed after we're out of the danger zone?"

The Doctor turned with a distracted nod and followed his companions back to the TARDIS, keeping one eye on the frozen creature. As he closed the door, he heard the unmistakable roar of a carnivore that had its meal stolen from its clutches. The Doctor leaned his head on the windowpane as he considered how close he had come to being prey. His hearts still beat out of sync.

"Hey, you okay?"

Amy's Scottish burr brought him back into the TARDIS, and brought the smile back to his face. "Of course I am, Pond. Didn't become lunch did I?"

Amy rubbed his arm and sauntered back to Rory, who was stood beside the Console looking at the controls with a confused brow. The Doctor spend just one last second contemplating his risky lifestyle before prancing up the steps to be with his friends on the upper deck and dropping a lever, sending the ship careening off into the Time Vortex.


	17. Wednesdays

17: Wednesday

It started after the Doctor had found himself lying in the dirt in Nevada, not knowing how he'd gotten there. After he'd met a waitress that he was far too comfortable with and who left him with far more heartache than he would've expected. The TARDIS had found a new obsession, though he could swear it wasn't new at all. She just couldn't land on any day other than Wednesday.

The first time, he chalked it up to bad steering. He'd had amnesia, and maybe he was just feeling ill from whatever had happened to cause said amnesia. But then it happened again. And again. It would've been fine if there had been an alien invasion; some sort of disturbance he had to take care of. But no; Earth was absolutely fine. More fine than usual, even. Nothing was amiss and the TARDIS had no obvious reason for taking him to these random Wednesdays in London, but here he was.

The Doctor sighed in exasperation, looking up at the Time Rotor with one hand still on the brake. "What's wrong, old girl? Did someone mess with your wiring? Was it me and I just forgot?"

The TARDIS hummed back, sounding almost forlorn. The Doctor wasn't satisfied. "I'm trying to be a doctor here; look, I've got the coat and everything. But you're making it a bit difficult."

He closed his eyes, trying to speak telepathically with his ship, but when he brought up Wednesdays, everything went totally blank. The worst of it was, it wasn't empty. It wasn't like a white sheet of paper, ready to be drawn or written on by a new hand. It was like an already fleshed out and fully published book, scribbled over with white crayon. "Who's messed with my memories?"

The TARDIS gave one final whirr and the Doctor went to the door to peek out. They were just next to the Thames, a beautiful little area with benches and flowers, but not one that needed a doctor. He looked back at the Console with his hands in his pockets. "I'll find out what's wrong. And then we're definitely going somewhere without Wednesdays."

The Doctor shut the door behind him and returned his hands to his pockets as he sauntered down the sidewalk, keeping an eye out for a map that would lead to the Tower of London. If the TARDIS wouldn't take him to the alien invasions, maybe UNIT would.

* * *

Kate was walking along the road beside her place of work, thermos in hand, a daily break she always enjoyed with immense satisfaction, when her phone went off loudly in her pocket. She rolled her eyes. Nobody at UNIT was supposed to call during this hour; not even for emergencies, unless they concerned the entire planet. When she saw who it was, though, she softened. "Clara?"

"Kate, I, ugh…have you talked to the Doctor recently?"

Kate's brow furrowed. "No. Why? Is something wrong? He hasn't gotten himself stuck somewhere has he?"

On the other line, Clara made a few stammering noises. "No, no it's nothing like that. I...I think we'd better talk in person. It's...complicated."

Kate sat at the closest bench, looking over the Thames. Setting down her tea, she thought over Clara's strange words. "Clara, are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm...I'm fine. Where are you? Oh, nevermind I traced your phone."

Kate's eyes widened. "Nobody's supposed to track this phone. It's wired with alien technology."

"I'll explain everything in a sec. I just have to park."

Kate shook her head. "Clara what's-"

The phone call ended abruptly, and Kate would have been a little annoyed if it weren't for the restaurant that suddenly appeared in the empty lot beside her. Her jaw dropped.

Clara stepped out of the diner wearing a blue dress. She almost looked like a waitress. As she approached, she smiled shyly at Kate, who was frozen to her seat in shock.

"Do you have a while?"

Kate answered simply, "I have until I finish my tea."

Clara sank beside her onto the bench and took a deep breath. "Things happened."

"What sort of things?"

Clara closed her eyes. Then she started from the beginning. She told Kate of Lady Me, once Ashildr, and the Hybrid. Of her death, which Kate had thought to be merely a concoction of the Doctor's to protect Clara from some alien threat. Kate touched Clara's still wrist with wide eyes after Clara told her of the events on Gallifrey, and how the Doctor had suffered and saved her. Finally, Clara told Kate of the impossible situation she and the Doctor were left with, which led to the Doctor losing his memory of her.

By the end of the story, Kate had tears playing at the edges of her vision, and a still full cup of tea. "So what are you doing now?"

Clara looked at her fingers. "Travelling. I have to go back to Gallifrey someday but...there's time."

Clara looked suddenly at Kate. "Is today Wednesday?"

"Yes, why?"

Clara shook her head, dropping her eyes back to her lap. "The Doctor and I used to travel on Wednesdays. When he didn't surprise me at work, I mean."

She smiled, but only for a second before her eyes went darker and more pensive. She looked like a woman in mourning.

Kate eyed Clara curiously before taking a sip of her tea and looking out over the Thames. Clara turned back up to her, chewing her bottom lip. "Ugh, Kate...I was wondering…"

"I'll take care of the Doctor."

Clara chuckled, her eyes sad. She looked like she wanted to say something, perhaps to comment on the strange situation they were in, or how much the Doctor hated help, especially from someone who had never seen him vulnerable, like Kate. Instead she stayed silent and watched a boat chug across the river. Kate peered to her left and sat up straight. "Ugh, Clara…"

The Doctor was approaching their bench, glancing over to the Thames to watch the seabirds. Clara stood quickly and turned to Kate. "Thank you. I'll...I'll see you again, maybe. I'll try and visit."

Kate gave Clara a dishonest smile. "We'll keep in touch."

Clara backed up a few paces as the Doctor neared, her fingers twiddling together restlessly. Her eyes were wide. Her heart sank as she remembered all the times the Doctor had commented on them in the past. She had always made herself look offended, but she actually loved his odd interpretations of her facial features.

Kate gave her an encouraging, slightly anxious nod and Clara was off, tearing her eyes away from the man who'd forgotten her. As she neared her TARDIS doors, she looked back just once more. He looked okay. He was wearing his old velvety coat again, and his hair was just the right amount of dishevelled. His eyes were brighter than they'd been in the diner. She smiled through the tears forming in her eyes. After one last whispered goodbye, she shut herself into the TARDIS and asked Me to start the engine.

* * *

"Who's your friend?"

Kate shook her head and quickly waved off the Doctor's question. "She was just looking for directions. Anyway, what are you doing here? We're not expecting any trouble are we?"

The Doctor shook his head, obviously disturbed by something as he dropped onto the bench beside her, foot tapping against the concrete. "No. That's the problem."

Kate laughed. "Pretty good problem, if you ask me."

The Doctor was leaned forward, peering over the Thames skeptically, eyes focused. "The TARDIS keeps landing on Wednesdays. Always London. But never for anything important. I don't know what's gotten into her. I've been here five weeks in a row already."

Kate thought back to her conversation with Clara and felt her chest ache. Even the TARDIS wasn't over all that had happened. It was such a strange, messy situation. Kate wished she could stop it all from happening. Deep down, she really, truly cared about the both of them. Seeing them so visibly upset hurt her. It was like the Black Archives all over again, perhaps worse.

"Doctor…"

She was about to go into a long-winded speech, but the look in his eye, curious and unknowing, stopped her. He didn't remember a thing. He really did have some powerful form of amnesia, stronger than anything they had for their own UNIT security guards. Kate put on a small smile. "Given you're already here every Wednesday, why don't you come do your job at UNIT? You're still technically on the payroll, we might as well put that into good use."

The Doctor considered this for a moment and nodded agreeably. "That sounds good. It'll give me something to do, anyway. You run out of things to see when you're here every week. I've been to every chippy in London now."

Kate's eyebrow raised. "You said you've only been here five days."

"I get hungry."

They shared a smile before the Doctor looked down at his shoes, contemplative. "Kate, there's something else."

Kate inhaled deeply. She hated when the Doctor got serious. She never knew how to respond.

"I have memories that I can't access. I know something important is bringing me here, but I don't know what it is. And last month I woke up in Nevada and I had forgotten someone very important to me, but I have no idea who she is now. I think something is affecting my brain; making me forget things."

Kate smiled softly. "I don't think it's anything to worry about."

"No?"

"I'm always forgetting things. And besides, have you seen you? I wonder how you remember to tie your shoes with how much your mind jumps around. You probably just need to take it easy for a while."

The Doctor seemed to accept this answer, nodding and relaxing into the bench. "You're probably right."

Kate patted his knee and got to her feet. The Doctor sat up straight again. "Where are you going?"

Kate shook her empty thermos. "I finished my tea. And we've got work to do. You're finally here to help out with the paperwork. We're months behind."

The Doctor reluctantly stood and followed her into the building. As they entered the labs and offices, though, he cheered up.

Soon enough, the Doctor learned what was so special about Wednesdays. Wednesdays were for being with humans and watching their funny reactions to alien artifacts and rituals. Wednesdays were for helping out with paperwork. Wednesdays were for friends and the feeling of being needed by somebody.

The Doctor knew an important person was missing from the equation, missing from his Wednesdays, but he let it pass. He was doing his job again, doing as he was told, and helping out the human race. Wednesdays were pretty good.


	18. Sinner

18: Sinner

The Doctor stood with fire in his eyes, no hint of remorse or apology. "I gave you your one warning."

The aliens in front of he and Bill were tied up, laying in a heap on the floor. The hisses that emitted from their mouths sent shivers down Bill's spine. Slowly, she reached a hand toward the Doctor and squeezed his arm. "Doctor...they're helpless."

He turned to her sharply, and for a moment she was almost afraid of him. "They had their chance at redemption. They knew what I was capable of."

Bill let her hand drop back to her side. "Apparently I didn't."

The Doctor's eyes softened, just for a moment, before they turned cold again. He was halfway to the nearby TARDIS before Bill could even blink. She followed him only after throwing a pitiful glance at the captured aliens, huddling by the wall of the shaking, jerking ship. In the distance, the sound of the first bombs went off. Any second now, the Doctor's plan would finish and the whole ship would blow out of existence. Bill felt new tears spring into her eyes at the thought.

The Doctor sauntered up to the Console and put his hands on the panels, bending his head down. Bill slammed the door behind her.

"What is this? Why are you being so cruel?"

He turned back to her, eyebrows furrowed. "They're murderers. They appreciate profit more than life. I told them what would happen. I told them not to cross me."

Bill wiped her eyes furiously. "Some of them are practically children."

The Doctor took a step toward Bill and she felt herself inadvertently shrink back toward the TARDIS doors. "Sometimes difficult decisions have to be made. Do you think if I let them live they'll all turn good? That I can just tell a beautiful speech and everyone will live happily ever after?"

"That's your job, isn't it? You give lectures and change people's minds."

The Doctor let out a small laugh. "I wish that actually worked. Believe me, I do. But I've been through this before. It's only a matter of time before they forget everything and start again. Isn't it better to cut it off at the source? Stop it before it goes too far?"

Bill shook her head. "They're not the ones going too far right now, Doctor."

He let out a shaky sigh and turned around, biting the nail of his thumb. Bill looked at the floor and shut her eyes. "Listen...I'm not asking you to forgive them or whatever. I hate them, too. And I know it's not 'sinking to their level' to punish someone who did something awful. But Doctor...you're always the one talking about mercy and compassion. What the hell has gotten into you?"

He replied with a mutter too low to hear, so Bill pressed forward. "What was that?"

He spun around, dropping his arms to his sides. "Compassion doesn't work, Bill. It's a con. You know what compassion gets you? Hurt. Or grieved. Or killed."

He didn't see the slap coming until he was bent over, the left side of his face stinging. Bill hovered over him, frustrated tears in her eyes. The Doctor rubbed his cheek and looked up at her with wide eyes. "Bill!"

Bill's voice softened as she took hold of his arm. "Listen, Doctor. You have a choice to make. I don't know what's gotten into you today, but I will not let your cynicism get people killed." She creased her eyebrows at him. "Be a Doctor."

He slowly straightened himself, eyes going watery. "What is wrong with me?"

Bill sensed a long introspective moment coming and pulled him roughly to the door. "Ship's about to explode. We've gotta go now."

The Doctor hurried to the door but paused for just a second and turned to Bill. She merely pushed him along, shouting, "Go!"

* * *

Later, when the ship and all of its inhabitants were safely tucked away on a prison planet a galaxy away; when the Doctor was staring pensively up at the Time Rotor and Bill was sitting casually on one of the flight chairs flipping through the TARDIS' copy of The War of the Worlds, he finally spoke again. "Thank you."

Without looking up from her book, Bill replied, "I won't always be there when you get all authoritarian and extremist."

"I know. It's not your job to reign me in. I'm sorry."

Bill set the book down and looked up at the Doctor, whose fingers were tapping restlessly on the control panel. "What happened?"

The Doctor glanced at her, then turned down to his hands. "Something set me off. I've...I've been in a war before. Maybe they reminded me too much of myself. All the things I did."

Bill's eyes widened for a moment, but she stood and went to the Doctor's side with warmth on her features. Playfully, she fiddles with one of the less important buttons on the Console. "Maybe you need to talk to someone. Or figure out some healthier coping mechanisms."

The Doctor turned toward her halfway. "Coping mechanisms?"

Bill shrugged. "Yeah, like, things you can do to help you get through stuff. Things that aren't bad, I mean."

The Doctor nodded, and Bill watched him pensively for a moment before placing her hand on top of his. "I don't mind helping you out. I just...don't wanna be your therapist or anything." She let out a chuckle. "Not that I know how."

"I know. It's not fair for me to ask that of you."

They shared a smile and Bill took her hand off of his, pacing around the Console. "So...where to now? Nardole's probably wondering where we are."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Nardole can wait. I'll take you back to the university, though. Or home, if you want. Where is home now? Did you get a place with those friends of yours?"

Bill raised her eyebrows. "Where are you going?"

He smiled softly. "I have an appointment to make. You're right. I need to take some responsibility and face my demons. Can't be running around the universe threatening everybody, can I? The history books will start confusing me with the Daleks."

Bill smiled at her professor proudly. Perhaps sometimes everybody could be a bit of a sinner, or an arse, or whatever they wanted to call it. And a lot of them were bad, and maybe didn't deserve any remorse. But maybe all that some people needed was some help. And maybe a smack in the face sometimes.


	19. Smallest

19: Smallest

Clara came to a stop just inside the TARDIS doors, panting for breath, as she and the Doctor narrowly avoided getting blasted with whatever those green aliens had been firing at them. She had a stitch in her side and her legs felt like noodles, but her smile still lit up the room, plastered across her face. The Doctor seemed a little less impressed, hurrying to the Console and getting them out of there as fast as he could. When they were a safe distance away, on course for a totally normal and safe Earth afternoon, he finally relaxed his tense shoulders. Clara was practically dancing, holding onto the railing and letting it carry most of her weight as she spun toward him. "Where are we headed now?"

He looked her over, noting her dishevelled hair and ripped shirt sleeve. "Earth."

She clicked her tongue, disappointment weakening the smile. "Aw, come on, I'm fine! I'm ready for another adventure!"

The Doctor turned a dial on the controls and the ship landed with its usual groan. "You're yawning."

Clara covered her mouth as she did just that. "Did you do that on purpose?"

The Doctor turned back to her, face full of innocence. "What?"

"You mentioned yawning so I yawned. That doesn't mean I'm tired."

The Doctor bit his bottom lip. "I didn't make the rules. You did. One trip and then a break for work and food and...whatever else humans do."

Clara suddenly felt her perspective shift down an inch or two. "Doctor…"

He eyed her curiously. "Yes?"

Clara looked down at herself and raised her eyebrows. "I think I'm shrinking!"

He waved her off, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, Clara, are you trying to avoid something at home? PE giving you trouble?"

Clara threw him a glare. "Doctor, I'm serious. Look at me."

"Yeah, looking."

She gestured to herself, shaking her head. "I'm smaller than I usually am."

He came to stand just in front of her. "You're always small."

Clara rolled her eyes. She could've hit him sometimes. "Maybe you're just a bloody giant."

The Doctor put his hands up in surrender. "Alright, I'll scan you and prove that you're fine."

Clara waited with her arms crossed as he whirred the Sonic over her. As he read the results, his eyebrows furrowed, and then he let out a short, odd laugh.

"What? What is it?"

He tilted his head reading the results on his device carefully. "Well, you'll be glad to know you were right."

Clara's eyes widened. "What happened? Am I going to keep getting smaller?"

The Doctor gave his screwdriver a lopsided grin. "Well, let's hope not. You don't have very far to go."

Clara whacked him on the arm as hard as she could. His mouth fell open. "Clara!"

"Can you help me?"

The Doctor shut his eyes, nodding his head. "Of course I can help you."

Clara felt herself shrink down another inch. Her eyes widened even more. "Doctor!"

He scanned her once more and turned back to the Console, pulling various instruments out of its panels and chucking them across the floor haphazardly. Clara watched him with anxiety, feeling herself shrink yet further. "Doctor, it's going faster now."

The Doctor couldn't suppress the laugh that escaped him. Her voice sounded helium-infused. Clara's face reddened in both embarrassment and anger. She kept silent for the rest of his search for...whatever it was he was after.

"Got it!"

The Doctor stood and spun to face her again, his teeth setting in a grimace as he looked over her shrunken form. She hardly reached his waist. "At least your clothes are shrinking at the same rate. Makes it easy to identify the problem."

He whipped out a small silver box with a red blinking button on top and aimed it toward her. "This might feel a bit weird; like when you've sat on your foot too long."

Clara shut her eyes as the red light's beam panned over her. It tickled and made her feel like she had to sneeze, but she remained absolutely still for fear of messing it up.

"Alright?"

She opened her eyes and saw the Doctor's shoulder at eye level. Back to normal.

"Fine, I think."

The Doctor hit his device with the palm of his hand. "Works in a trick. Glad it did, too. You might've gotten confused with your students."

Clara smiled softly and walked up to him with a sweet look in her eye. He returned the smile, but instantly noted Clara's now-clenched fist.

Clara hit his arm in the same spot as before, even harder.

"Oi!"

"That's for laughing at me."

The Doctor was bent over slightly, holding onto his arm in pain. His mouth had fallen open in silent shock. As Clara moved toward him again, he jerked back, but she simply put her arms around him in a hug. He slowly relaxed, straightening and letting his arms fall to his sides.

"And this is for saving me."

She let go of him and strolled to the door, but turned back with the eye of a teacher. The Doctor was stood rubbing his arm.

"I'm going to take a nap and then you, mister, are taking me to Mars for cocktails."

He nodded. "Course, boss."

She smiled kindly. "And then we can go wherever you want."

He returned the smile. "I've got a whole day planned on the plains of The Divine Galaxies."

"I can't wait."

She closed the door as she left, and the Doctor smiled at the thought of seeing her in another hour. Before that, though, he had some things to do on the moon, so he took off and dashed around the Console, half steering and half negotiating with the TARDIS to get where he wanted to go.


	20. Emergency

20: Emergency

Clara was in her TARDIS on-suite, gently rubbing a cloth over her wet face. It had become her little habit to come in here and freshen up a bit after every especially adventurous trip. Sometimes she also took a nap or read. The cloth was from a spa she and the Doctor had recently visited, and was smooth on her skin. It always reminded her of her mum, from when she was little and got caught in the rain. She'd always get incredibly dirty in the mud and go home to thorough washing down, which her mother gave to her with many giggles and smiles.

Clara looked at herself in the mirror and set the cloth on its rack. She still had traces of purple glittery alien mud on her cheek, but it honestly looked pretty beautiful, the way it sparkled in the light. Maybe she would use it as an accessory in the future.

"Clara!"

She spun around to the sound of her name, and then hurried out of the room at the resounding crash that followed it. Her heart beat quickly as the Doctor continued to shout for her, growing increasingly more desperate. "Doctor? You alright?"

Her legs carried her quickly through the TARDIS' winding corridors until she finally reached the Console room. When she finally looked up at the Doctor, fear in her eyes, she almost screamed, not in fright or horror, but in agitation.

"Doctor we talked about this!"

The Doctor had his fingers stuck in one of his infernal little robots. Why he was suddenly designing little metal robots was beyond her, but for the most part it was a harmless diversion for him between trips. That is, until he got his finger trapped in their inner workings. This was the third time in a week that such a thing happened. Clara stomped up the steps.

"Give me your hand."

He shakily showed her his hand, caught in the torso of a robot with a snide smile on its face. Clara took his wrist with her fingers tighter than she meant, causing her space idiot to grimace at her and go into a cascade of apologies and excuses. "I thought my hand could fit. This one's never given me trouble before."

Clara maneuvered his hand out of the robot's grasp and 'accidentally' dropped the contraption on the floor. The Doctor didn't dare question her, massaging his newly freed hand with the other. Clara's eyes pierced his own.

"I told you not to shout like that unless there was actually something wrong."

His voice came smaller than usual. "I'm sorry."

"I thought you were seriously hurt!"

He looked at the floor. "I know."

She sighed and looked at his hand with gentility. Her voice softened dramatically, her berating over. "Are you alright?"

He let go of his hand and looked it over. Besides a few pink pressure spots, he was unharmed. "Yes. I'm fine."

Clara turned up to him, shifting her weight onto a different foot. "I didn't mean to treat you like a child. You just...scared me. I shifted into teacher mode."

The Doctor smiled lightly. "Is that what happens at school?"

Clara chuckled. "Maybe...hey, do you want to go somewhere? I'm all washed up and rested."

The Doctor sprang to the controls, pulling a red lever. "I've already got a place in mind. They're lovely people; very hospitable. You'll love them."

Clara danced up beside him looking at the coordinates. "Where are we going?"

The Doctor grinned madly as he pressed a button and the ship lurched sideways. "It's a planet called Bonum. They're all obsessed with being good and moral. Once there was this coux and a family with a murder streak and yellow sashes took control, but luckily that didn't last too long."

"What did you do to kick them out?"

"How did you know it was me?"

Clara raised her eyebrow, but replied with a mere smile. When the TARDIS landed with a thud, the Doctor ran to the doors and pulled them open. Clara stepped out and was instantly greeted with the smell of wine and cheese.

They were in a beautiful outdoor restaurant. Green and pink plants lined the border, and people of all shapes and sizes sat enjoying meals of fish and strange blue algae at the wooden tables. The Doctor closed the TARDIS doors and came beside her, smiling proudly. "Hope you're hungry. They have some of the best food and wine here."

Clara turned up to give the Doctor an excited grin as a tall man with yellow whiskers and a neatly tailored overcoat approached them. Resting on his open palm was a tray with a single wine glasses. "Doctor! How lovely it is to see you again. We detected your ship in the atmosphere, of course."

The Doctor eyed him curiously, and the man shook his head. "My apologies," he held out the wine glass for the Doctor. "Compliments from the owner."

The Doctor took the glass and sniffed it, tilting his head approvingly. "Thank you."

The Doctor took a sip of the wine as the man then turned to Clara. "We'll bring your glass out shortly. We didn't know the Doctor had a travelling companion this evening."

He walked off with the empty tray and Clara looked at the Doctor, who was eyeing the red liquid in his glass with a curious eye. "So you were here alone last time?"

The Doctor didn't reply, lost in thought. Clara nudged his arm. "Doctor?"

He turned to her suddenly, blinking and shaking his head at the rapid movement. Clara watched him closely. "You alright?"

The Doctor nodded slowly, looking around the room with eyes like a detective. Clara followed his gaze and shuddered as her eyes landed on a portrait hanging above one of the tables. "Umm, Doctor? You said that family wore yellow sashes?"

The Doctor coughed suddenly and set the glass roughly on a waiter's tray as they walked by. "Clara, don't take the wine."

Her wide eyes turned to him sharply, filled with worry as his cough seemed to intensify, breathing tight in between fits and eyes watery. The man from earlier approached them again, his tray holding another glass of red wine. "For the lady?"

Clara held out a hand that was only partially shaking. "No, no that's alright. I'm good. Not a drinker, me."

She grabbed onto the Doctor's arm and began leading them backwards, awkwardly fumbling for her key and jamming it into the lock of the TARDIS door behind them. Before the whiskered man could shout 'Security', Clara had them both inside with the doors bolted shut. Instantly she went to the Doctor, who was leaned over the railing breathing harshly. "Doctor, what was in the wine?"

He held up a finger as he continued to cough profusely. Clara took his hand gently in her own, using her other to turn his face to her. "Hey, look at me."

He pushed her away suddenly, ambling over toward the Console. "'M fine, Clara. It's not a big deal. I'll just take you home."

She rolled her eyes and followed him, keeping a small distance because of his outstretched hand. "Doctor, let me help."

He shook his head. "It's nothing, Clara, honestly. Don't be such a worrier."

His words only made her worry more, especially given his history of complaining about every tiny ailment or injury he ever acquired. And the fact that as soon as he said that, he slipped up on his own two feet and almost crashed into the floor, caught only by the TARDIS Console and Clara's Zumba arms.

"Listen, what I said earlier...You're allowed to tell me when you're hurt sometimes."

He still waved her off, using the Console to get back on his feet. She would've been furious if she weren't so bloody worried about him. "At least sit down. Please?"

At that, he finally relented just a bit, allowing her to walk him over to the nearest seat. Clara dashed over to the TARDIS Console as soon as he was secure in the chair. "Scanner...scanner...here we go."

She hovered the medical tool over his body and impatiently awaited the results. Finally the banner of the device read 'Binary Poison'. Clara furrowed her eyebrows. "Binary poison. How bad is that?"

She noticed the Doctor's eyes inflate, but he replied quietly, "Don't worry about it. You want me to take you home?"

He went to stand, but Clara practically pushed him back into the chair. Then she saw the sweat beading on his forehead and felt the heat radiating off of him. "Doctor…"

He didn't respond, his eyes shutting briefly and then opening with a jolt. They were glossy and unfocused. Clara felt her heart start to race. "Doctor, what can I do to help?"

He muttered softly, "I just need...some rest."

Clara sighed as his head dropped nearly to his chest, his energy sapped. Then, to her relief, the TARDIS' telepathic circuits found their way into her head.

Infirmary. Antidote in blue labelled bottle. Hurry. Keep Thief cool.

Clara rested the back of her hand on the Doctor's clammy forehead and frowned. He was at least a few degrees above what was normal, and probably steadily rising. "Hey."

His eyes turned up to her, barely open from heavy eyelids. Clara knelt down and took his hand in her own. "I have to run to the infirmary real quick. You stay here, alright? Shout if you need me."

He murmured under his breath, "Thought you didn't like shouting."

"This is different. This is an actual emergency. Just...stay here and stay safe, okay?"

He nodded, his head bobbing limply, and she dashed off down the corridor. Her heart was in her throat, and her stomach felt ill. As soon as she arrived in the brightly lit medical room, she ran around grabbing everything she thought she might need. In the back of her mind, she felt the TARDIS calling her name. Or maybe that was the Doctor.

Taking inventory quickly, she hurried out of the infirmary and back toward the Console room. The objects in her hand nearly dropped to the floor when she reached the top of the steps and looked down. The Doctor was lying on his stomach, completely unconscious on the floor. Clara skidded to her knees painfully and set her things beside them.

"Doctor?" She put a gentle hand on his shoulder, then turned him over onto his side into some form of the recovery position. His eyes were still closed, breathing shallow and fast. The back of Clara's hand nearly burned when she felt his pale forehead. Then she softly rested her palm on his cheek and looked at him, nothing but care in her eyes. "You'll be alright. I brought some things that should help."

She got to work opening the bottle labelled 'Antidote' in big blue letters, then eyed it carefully. She had no idea what to do with it. It was just a simple silver cylinder. It almost looked like a miniature version of one of the original Gallifreyan TARDIS'; one that hadn't been disguised as anything yet.

As Clara continued to fumble with the device, the Doctor's eyelids fluttered open. He emitted a low groan and then shut his eyes again almost instantly, already nearly unconscious again. A quick check of his pulse told her one of his hearts had stopped beating. Clara looked up at the Time Rotor with tears in her eyes. "What do I do?"

Softly, the ship whispered directions in her ear, filling Clara with calm confidence. She rested the antidote against the Doctor's neck and pressed the button. It made a hissing sound for two seconds, and then silenced itself. As soon as Clara pulled it away from the Doctor and dropped it carelessly onto the floor, the Timelord inhaled deeply, eyelids opening a crack. Clara put a reassuring hand on the back of his head, giving him a watery grin. "Hey."

"Hey."

His voice was more gravelly than she'd have liked, but at least he was alert. Clara stroked his bangs absentmindedly, her heartbeat slowing as the adrenaline faded away. "How are you feeling?"

He shrugged. "Been better."

Clara bit her lip and looked him over. "You didn't hurt your head when you fainted?"

"I fainted?"

Clara raised her eyebrow. "Yes?"

The Doctor closed his eyes and muttered, "Nobody saw, right? That would just be embarrassing."

Clara shook her head with a smile. "Nobody saw. Maybe you should rest. Do you want to stay here or try and go to your room?"

He leaned closer to the floor, keeping his eyes closed. A moment later, he was breathing slowly and deeply. Clara set a cool cloth she'd brought from the infirmary on his forehead, rubbed his hair one last time, and kissed his cheek, whispering, "Sleep tight, Doctor."

* * *

The Doctor was nicely tucked into one of the blankets from Clara's room on the TARDIS floor, his head lying on her pillow. He hadn't stirred for over half an hour and didn't seem likely to stir for another while, so Clara finally felt calm enough to sit in the flight chair, wrapped in one of her other blankets, and read up on what exactly that poison was. What she learned shocked her system.

As soon as the Doctor awoke and got shakily to his feet, he found Clara standing on the opposite side of the Console, turned away from him, wiping at her eyes. Cautiously, he approached her. "You okay?"

She spun around, face wet with tears he couldn't identify as angry or sad. "You almost died!"

He tried to play it off, shrugged his shoulders, cocked his head to the side, went to the Console. "Did I? Just a day in the life, then."

Wrong move. Clara breathed in deeply. "Why didn't you tell me? That stuff is lethal for Timelords. It makes it impossible for you to regenerate. Another few minutes and your other heart would've stopped. And you acted like you were fine!"

The Doctor flicked his eyes from the Console to the floor, unsure what to say.

"Doctor, you scream bloody murder when you get your finger caught, but you play off getting poisoned like it's just a normal Tuesday morning. What are you trying to prove?"

"I'm not...I'm not trying to prove anything."

"Then why do you do this? Every time you're in actual danger, you tell me everything is fine."

The Doctor met Clara's eyes. The fever was calming and he was getting his color back, but if Clara didn't know him better, she'd say he almost looked afraid. He said simply, in a voice that was louder than he intended, "I don't want to worry you when I don't know if I can fix it."

He looked away, at the blue-green Time Rotor churning up and down in the center of the Console. Clara took his hand in her own, staring at their fingers thoughtfully. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

He shook his head, almost chuckled. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

"I was just afraid. I thought I was going to lose you. That was a real emergency."

"I guess so."

Clara pointed an index finger at him, loosening a little. "No more wine for you."

"Yes ma'am."

"And no more tinkering with robots for at least a month."

"Gotcha."

"Now Doctor?"

"Yeah?"

Clara gave him one of her biggest toothless smiles. "Show me some planets."

The Doctor pulled down the closest lever and off they were, to another adventure, to stop another emergency on another planet.


	21. Danger

**Danger**

"Look out!" Bill shouted.

The Doctor ducked as a piece of the wall splintered off in a resounding crack of sparks and wires. Bill followed closely behind him as they maneuvered through the narrow corridor. She stole a quick glance backward and found the three robots still chasing them, gaining ground.

"Doctor…"

"I know, I know," he said through gritted teeth. Suddenly he tore off down a hallway to the right. "This way!"

A moment later, Bill heard the Doctor cry out. She turned the corner and came to a stuttering stop, grabbing onto some ripped metal hanging on the wall.

"Doctor!"

The hallway was practically gone, walls mangled and a giant hole in the center of the floor. Bill's breath came quickly, her heart racing. Had he fallen? What was out there beside empty space? Could he survive space?

Before her questions and the robots inching ever closer could put her in a frenzy, the Doctor's hand reached up and grabbed onto a portion of the floor just beside the gaping hole. Bill jumped down to her knees and crawled to him.

He was hanging on by a loose thread of metal, his legs dangling out of the ship and into the whirling blues and blacks of space beyond. Bill reached out to him.

"Grab my hand."

Hesitantly, the Doctor took one of his hands off of the metal and reached up to her. Just before their fingers could grab on to each other, the ship lurched.

To Bill's horror, the Doctor was thrown back with such violence that his other hand came off of the metal. He threw a panicked look up to her as his body began plummeting out of the ship.

"Doctor!" Bill shouted, fear seeping into her voice. She watched him for a second, falling into space with nothing to grab onto. "No," she breathed, mostly to herself.

As the ship lurched again, Bill backed up a few paces. The robots were right behind her now, their metal legs clanking noisily against the rusty old ship.

Bill shut her eyes and leaned back against the only part of the wall not destroyed. Doctor gone, possibly dead. Miles from home. Stranded on a ship with God-knows-what on board.

A noise entered the space; a groaning and wheezing sound that Bill recognized immediately. She turned up and found the TARDIS materializing directly in front of her, knocking over a few of the robots. The door opened and Nardole's face appeared.

"Come on, there's not much time," he said.

Bill hurried into the ship after him, trying to get her thoughts in order. He shut the doors and the TARDIS started its ascent automatically. Bill grabbed onto the nearest railing and tried not to be sick. The colors and sounds of the last half hour were still whirling in her head.

"Take it easy," Nardole said.

At first Bill thought he was talking to her, but when she looked up, he was halfway across the room, huddled over a figure on the floor. Bill's eyes widened.

"Doctor!"

She ran up to them, but Nardole put his hands on her shoulders.

"He's fine. Just spent a little too long without oxygen."

Bill looked down at the Doctor. He was lying on his back breathing heavily with an arm draped across his face. Bill held his opposite hand while Nardole went to the Console to steer.

The Doctor dropped his arm to his chest. His eyes were a bit bleary and red, but otherwise he seemed fine. He and Bill shared a smile.

"Sorry I didn't get to you fast enough," she said.

"Don't be ridiculous."

His voice was thick and tired. Bill sighed.

"Do you know how stressful it is to be your friend sometimes?"

The Doctor smiled, just before his face creased in pain. For a moment, Bill thought he was going to be sick, but instead he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes.

She looked back up at Nardole.

"Is he gonna be okay?"

Nardole came back to their side. He pulled a self-dampening flannel from one of the Console panels and set it on the Doctor's neck. The Timelord murmured in appreciation.

"He'll be fine. Looks worse than it is."

Bill nodded. "Thank you. For, er, picking us up."

Nardole smiled darkly. "Wish he'd stop running off without telling me. This is why I get cross. I don't mind guarding the Vault so much. I just...don't want him running off getting hurt or...and if something did happen, I might never know."

The Doctor grunted. "Sorry, Nardole."

Nardole sighed. "Sir, I thought you were resting."

"I'm not unconscious."

"Go to sleep," Nardole stated.

"Yes...mum."

Bill smiled at Nardole, who rolled his eyes.

"He's worse than the students, honestly."

Bill's smile only grew, as she realized they were all alright. In the clear. Bantering again.

Out of danger.

She didn't let herself wonder how long it would last.

 **I'm back to doing these one word prompt stories, so if you have a word you'd like to see, please leave one in the reviews! Thank you for reading.**


	22. Story

Story

It wasn't usually the kids.

It was the adults you had to watch out for. They were the ones who were deceitful and grumpy and selfish. The kids were usually just caught up in the mix; confused or scared or lost or all three.

Today wasn't one of those days, the Doctor guessed.

The young boy was standing in the doorway holding out his hand. He wore shorts and a football jersey and looked just like a normal human child, other than his pointy front teeth and red gleaming eyes.

The Doctor groaned. How had he not seen it sooner?

"You can stop this, Cole!" The Doctor shouted. A wind was picking up in the small room. Papers blew around his ankles.

The Doctor looked around and found Clara huddled by the wall, watching Cole unblinkingly.

"Clara, hold on to something!"

She took hold of the nearby drapes as the Doctor grabbed onto the china cabinet. He turned back to Cole. In front of the boy's hand was a glowing sort of light, forming a circle of mist in front of him.

"Cole! We can help you!"

"I don't need your help," the boy said, in a voice too deep to be owned by such a young child. Clara have the Doctor a wild eye. He bit his lip and tried to step forward through the heavy wind.

"Cole, I know you're afraid…"

The Doctor was thrown back, just able to grab onto the cabinet again before he could be thrown across the room. The smoke in front of Cole was growing, a figure appearing.

"Doctor, what is happening?!" Clara shouted over the noise. He kept his eyes on Cole.

"We aren't your enemy, Cole. We're friends."

"I don't have friends," the boy said. His voice seemed smaller now.

Clara's eyes lightened. Her lips curled down and, if the Doctor had been practicing his face-reading skills enough, she looked sad. He gave her a raised eyebrow.

"Let me handle this one," Clara said.

A moment later, a terrible roar came from the figure in the midst, which now revealed itself to be eight feet tall and made of some kind of alien stone. It's eyes glowed red just like Cole's.

"Sure about that?" The Doctor quipped.

"You take the monster, I'll talk to Cole," Clara said.

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Right. Okay. Big scary man, you're all mine."

The creature roared again, baring its teeth and claws toward the Doctor.

"See you in a mo', Clara."

The Doctor yanked the Sonic out of his jacket and aimed it at the monster. It seemed to stun the beast, slowing its pace just enough to allow the Doctor to let go of the cabinet and stagger to a better position.

Clara waited until the monster was out of her path, and then approached Cole. The room wasn't quite as windy now, though it wasn't calm. Cabinet doors opened and closed by themselves and the creature still roared in frustration at the Doctor's maneuvering.

Clara gave Cole a tiny smile.

"Hey, I'm Clara."

Cole covered his ears. "I don't need anyone's help."

Clara knelt down.

"I know. I just have a story I want to tell you."

The Doctor looked over the couch he was crouched behind. "Seriously?"

Clara gave him a stern eye. "You fight your monster. I've got this."

She turned back to Cole.

"Once upon a time, there was a little boy who was very lonely."

"Is this story about me? I don't like stories about me." Cole asked, backing away. His eyes were turning a deeper shade of red.

Clara shook her head. "No, no. A different little boy."

She cleared her throat.

"The little boy felt different from everyone else, and though he wasn't ashamed of that, it did make it difficult for him to make friends."

The cabinets stopped banging, Cole's red eyes brightening just a shade or two.

"The boy didn't let any of that hold him back. He followed his dreams and did everything he wanted to do, even if he had to do it alone. And he was very happy."

Cole's eyes were pink now. "What was his dream?"

Clara looked over at the Doctor and smiled. "He wanted to see the universe."

The Doctor paused in his alien fighting for a second, meeting Clara's eyes. She smiled and then turned back to Cole.

"So he did. And along the way, while he followed his own dreams and focused on making himself and everyone around him happy, you know what?"

"What?"

"He made friends. He made lots of friends."

Cole smiled, his eyes fading into white. The creature stopped moving, standing still above the Doctor.

Then his eyes flickered red again.

"What happened next?" He asked.

Clara hesitated. "Er, then The End."

Cole's eyes stayed red. The monster roared again, and batted the Sonic out of the Doctor's hand. Within a moment it had him pinned against the wall.

"Clara!"

She glanced around and bit her lip.

"Er, and then he kept traveling. He never stopped. And he kept making new friends."

"But what happened when his friends went away? My friends all went away."

The monster raised one of its clawed hands, holding the Doctor against the wall with the other. The Doctor shut his eyes.

Clara stammered. "And then...and then."

"The little boy was sad for a while," the Doctor continued. The monster mercifully held back from attacking as he looked at Cole. "Because endings are always sad. But he learned that every ending is also a beginning."

The monster dropped its hand from the Doctor's shoulder. He dusted himself off and straightened his jacket. "And so he kept on traveling and meeting new people and, yes, saying goodbye. But he never let it make him cruel or cowardly. He let it make him kind."

The monster faded into smoke again, returning to Cole's hand. The boy's eyes were clear and white again.

Clara and the Doctor each let out a deep breath.

"Cole?" Clara asked. "Are you alright?"

The boy wiped at his eyes. "I'm sleepy."

Clara carried the boy to a nearby bedroom and laid him down. When she was finished, she returned to the lounge where the Doctor was leaned on the back of the couch.

"Bedtime story: best thing to take down a frightened Tenza," he said.

Clara crossed her arms. "Is that what he is? I just saw a frightened little boy."

He gave her a shy smile. "What made you pick that story?"

She shrugged. "Best story there is, I think."

They each smiled toward the floor. Clara crossed the room and inspected his dirtied jacket. "You okay? That thing had claws like my neighbor's cat."

The Doctor opened his jacket and showed the crisp white shirt underneath. "Didn't become monster food today."

Clara chuckled, and then leaned back on the couch beside him.

"So, er, how did I do?"

The Doctor tilted his head. "Very well, up until the end."

"I've always had a hard time writing endings," she confessed.

The Doctor grit his teeth. "I'm not much better with endings myself."

Clara nudged his shoulder. "What a pair we make, eh?"

The Doctor smiled. "What a pair."


	23. Pride

Pride

When Bill entered the Doctor's office for her lesson, she was somewhat surprised to find him seated at his desk with his hands folded, a smiling face greeting her instantly. She set her bag down and took her usual seat.

"What's up?"

The Doctor's thumbs twiddled. "What do you mean?"

Bill gestured at him with her eyebrows.

"You're not usually just sitting there waiting. I didn't think you had the attention span."

The Doctor scratched behind his ear, debating. "I was going to wait...we're close enough, I suppose."

"Close enough to what?"

The Doctor stood. Bill followed suit.

"It's the last day of May, yes?"

Bill nodded. The Doctor went to the TARDIS.

"Are we going somewhere?" Bill asked with a smile.

The Doctor turned halfway toward her, bouncing on his heels. "Yes. With Nardole, I'm afraid."

"Oi! I heard that!" Nardole shouted from inside the TARDIS. He opened the door and peeked his head out.

"Sir, I thought we were going tomorrow?"

The Doctor rubbed his hands together again. "Er, change of plans. I can't keep it a secret anymore."

Bill stepped in between them.

"Okay, can one of you tell me where we're going?"

The Doctor gave her a mysterious smile. "It'll be better just to show you."

The trio clambered into the TARDIS. The Doctor had Nardole distract Bill from the screen so he could steer them discreetly. Bill sat in the flight chair and looked around the enormous space, noticing the Gallifreyan writing near the ceiling for the first time.

"Is that your language?"

The Doctor glanced up from the Console and Bill caught a small smile flash across his face. Nardole nodded.

"It's nice," he said.

The TARDIS landed with its typical groaning sound and the Doctor went to the door even faster than usual.

"Close your eyes."

"What, seriously?" Bill asked.

Nardole gave her a pointed look. She gave them each a raised brow, but closed her eyes as she approached the door. When the Doctor was satisfied, he pushed open the door.

"Okay." The Doctor carefully steered Bill through the doors by the shoulders. "And...open your eyes."

Bill blinked her eyes open and smiled. It was a city street; not London, but Earth. Or at least Earth-like. Humans walked around with iPhones and wireless headphones.

"We haven't time travelled, then," Bill murmured.

Nardole shut the TARDIS doors. "Can you guess where we are?"

Bill turned in a circle around herself. It was all shops, cars, a trolley. Steep hills surrounded them in both directions. Bill nodded.

"Is this San Francisco?"

"Bingo!" The Doctor said happily.

Bill smiled. "I've always wanted to visit. It was always too far away." She looked at the TARDIS. "She's much better than any plane I've ever seen."

Nardole shrugged. "Eh, perhaps."

The Doctor nudged his arm, and then tore off down the street. "If I steered correctly, we should only be a few blocks away."

"Away from what?"

The Doctor's only response was a mysterious smile. Bill rolled her eyes and followed behind him and Nardole. Her eyes caught every new sight and sound, relishing the wonderful sunshine and vibrant people surrounding her.

Tonight was proving much different than the lesson in the Doctor's office she had been expecting.

The Doctor rounded one more corner, and then spun back around and took Bill by the shoulders again. "Okay, we're here. Close your eyes again."

Bill heard loud music coming from around the corner, and wanted to just keep walking, but she followed the Doctor's instructions. Slowly, she trailed after Nardole with her eyes closed, the Doctor helping to guide her from any poles and walls. The music grew louder, as did the smell of food.

The Doctor stopped moving and came around to her front. "Open your eyes."

Bill looked around and found dozens of people dancing, eating, and playing frisbee in a beautifully lush green park. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she took in the colors surrounding her; rainbows and all kinds of flags, neons and glow sticks. Above the park entrance read the words 'San Francisco Pride'.

Bill's face lit up. "Pride?! In San Francisco."

The Doctor gave her a warm smile. "Last week you said you'd never been, so I thought...where better to have your first pride."

Bill wrapped her arms around his neck so suddenly he was thrown off balance. He caught himself with a chuckle and returned the hug. Suddenly Nardole appeared carrying a churro.

"You two have got to try this food. I might never go back to England."

The Doctor gave him a pointed look. "What about that Vault we're guarding?"

Nardole waved him off. "No business during pride."

Bill looked over the Doctor's shoulder and patted his arm. "I'll be right back."

She ran off, leaving the Doctor leaned against the wall watching her and Nardole stood eating his churro watching the Doctor.

"What made you decide to come here?" Nardole asked.

The Doctor shrugged. "Like I said. Bill's never been. She...doesn't get a lot of support from home. And we're always going places where we get into trouble. I wanted to take her somewhere safe for once."

Nardole took another bite of his churro. The Doctor smiled to himself.

Bill came back a moment later wearing pink-framed sunglasses. In her hands were three rainbow-colored flower necklaces.

"I don't want to hear any arguments."

She put a necklace over both Nardole and the Doctor's heads. Nardole finished his churro and grinned. "I've never had a necklace made of flowers."

"I know a planet with real rainbow flowers," the Doctor said. Bill's eyes brightened. He held up a hand. "But for today we're just going to stay on Earth. I'm not putting you in danger again."

"Are the rainbow flowers that dangerous?" Bill asked.

The Doctor tilted his head. "They aren't. But the carnivorous wildebeest are."

Bill nodded. Then she spun around toward the park. "Oooh, my favorite song is playing. C'mon, we should go join everybody else."

The Doctor let her lead him by the hand across the street and into the park. Nardole followed closely behind, smiling at the Doctor, who seemed to be loving all of this as much as Bill. He hadn't seen the Time Lord this relaxed in a while. Finally the tension in his shoulders was calm, his lips curled in an unconscious smile.

The music blasted from a small DJ table at the far end of the park. On the green were people of all ages dancing and eating and smiling. Bill grinned ear to ear as she looked at the Doctor and Nardole.

"Thank you."

The Doctor smiled in reply. "You deserve it. Go; have fun. Make some friends."

Bill started walking toward a group of people about her age. She turned around with a smile. "Girlfriends?"

The Doctor held up a finger. "Only if they're good enough for you."

Bill saluted. "Right. Grandad."

They shared another smile before Bill disappeared into the crowd. Nardole put a hand on the Doctor's shoulder. He turned halfway toward the cyborg.

"Humanity at its best," the Doctor said, putting his hands in his pockets. "If only it were always like this. Accepting. Welcoming."

"Well," Nardole said. "At least it's good for now. Come on; drop the gloom for an hour and have some punch."

The Doctor smiled. It reached his eyes, at last.

"You're right, Nardole."

Nardole rolled his eyes playfully. "That's the first time I've ever heard that sentence. Say it again."

"Don't push it."

They exchanged a look, and then Nardole walked off with a grin. The Doctor turned back to the crowd, where Bill was dancing with a few girls, a large smile taking up most of her face uncovered by the sunglasses. The Doctor adjusted his necklace and let himself breathe in the happy atmosphere.

No Daleks. No stress. No tears.

No one to hide from.

The Doctor watched his young student and felt nothin but pride and joy.

 **I hope you enjoyed! Note: I've never been to San Francisco and I've never been to pride, so I hope a captured at least the feel? Happy pride to my fellow LGBT+ readers! Please review if you enjoyed!**


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